


Defectum, A World Long Gone

by CultMother



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Status Updates, Substance Abuse, Verbal Abuse, fast updates, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-20 06:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CultMother/pseuds/CultMother
Summary: The world was almost already aflame, but all I could do was go along with what was happening and find my way, stumbling and blind, through the chaos. The Project at Eden’s Gate was giving me hell, showing me what hell truly was- and without a doubt, I would find my sanity, patience and good nature slowly fading to black in the background.“You’re weak. I’m going to make you worthy.” - Jacob Seed, Act 1“I can show you a world that you’ve never known. You can trust me- I’m not going to hurt you like my brothers will.” - Faith Seed, Act 1“You know, Deputy, I have a penchant for seeing sins. I know. And don’t worry, just because I can’t see yours yet doesn’t mean you don’t have any. You will confess. I will know. Together, we will purify you and get you ready for your role in the events to come.” - John Seed, Act 1“Come to me, my child. You are meant to be the Virgin Mary upon the ark I have built for this project. All you have to do is let go of sin. I know you can do that. I’ve seen it. Stop resisting and let us help you.” -Joseph Seed, Act 1Current Act - Jacob Seed’s Chapter, Act 1





	1. Index [Updated 2018-08-16 11:50PM EST]

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Defectum; A World Long Gone. This ride is meant to be short and bittersweet. Content will be dark and trigger-worthy, so if you have any issues with certain triggers listed in the description above, please take care and either read carefully or seek something more to your tastes. It's a bit of a slowburn, so the more sexual stuff comes later on. I'm predicting around ten chapters, may be more based on how much I enjoy writing this.

 

* * *

 

[i](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847/chapters/36053034)

[AViVA - Drown](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8QTQemiLhQ)

_Rook is in over her head- and she knows it. It's time to meet the Father.  
_

* * *

 

[ii](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847/chapters/36087864)

[Night Riots - Colour Morning](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aiKiIDq1og)

**  
**

**[Rewriting]**

_Rook deals with a few knocks to the head. Albeit not very well, at least she's dealing with it._

* * *

 

[iii](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847/chapters/36152517)

_[Tyler Glenn - Sudden Death (OMG)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpW4Gz7DMvs) _

**  
**

_Rook bonds with Dutch while staying in his bunker.  
_

_Rook meets someone special._

* * *

 

[iv](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847/chapters/36205986)

[Jukebox The Ghost - Simple As 1 2 3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wb4DlINNlmQ)

**  
**

** _[Jacob's Act 1]_ **

_Rook shares a sweet moment of reprieve in the woods to the tune of Only You.  
_

* * *

 

[v](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847/chapters/36284448)

_[Andy Grammer - Sinner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=almQVIIEo64) _

  _The Seeds get together for a sunday dinner. Rook is hidden in the bunker below Jacob's cabin.  
_

_Rook goes snooping around._

* * *

 

[vi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847/chapters/36345576)

[One Foot - Walk The Moon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05v4nfUmBYI)

[Neon Trees - First Things First](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Ft30ZS8Ii4)

[Andy Grammer - Pushing {Main chapter song}](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnoK7a4bG3A)

**  
**

_Jacob decides to help Rook. John catches sight of something he wasn't supposed to see.  
_

_John's car breaks down._

_John calls Glenn._

_Glenn is annoyed._

_Jacob has given Rook a new nickname._

 

* * *

 

[vii](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847/chapters/36374130)

[Andrew McMahon In The Wilderness - Don't Speak For Me (True)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIV7gC9X1yE)

**  
**

_Rook is on the move.  
_

_The resistance (It has to be them, right?) attacks Jacob's Compound._

_Rook makes a new friend._

* * *

 

[viii](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527847/chapters/36511911)

[Walk The Moon - Can't Sleep (Wolves)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Oh4h5-LXm0)

**  
**

_Rook finally gets to shower and have a nice meal._  
A familiar stranger shows up in Hope County.  


_Glenn goes hunting._

* * *

 

ix

[Me, Myself and I - Vinyl Theatre](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jyr4iNw4M0o)

**Walk The Path** _  
_

_Ready to write._

* * *

 

x

_To be determined at a later date_

xi

_To be determined at a later date_

xii

_To be determined at a later date_

**Other info**

_List should be updated daily by 4PM._

_Each Seed member has an arc. So far, each individual member has three acts, all of which happen in the order of Jacob-Faith-John-Joseph only to loop again. This story will take a while to take off, being a slow-burn. Hopefully you enjoy!_

_**THE MOST TRAUMATIC/RELEVANT WARNINGS ARE BOLDED AND UNDERLINED.**  
_

_Please do not take the darker tones lightly- I hope to handle them in an appropriate manner that will not only show how devastating they are but also terrible. I do not believe anyone should be treated this way and as for any kinks that one might have as long as it is_ **_consensual and practiced safely, it should be fine. What other people do is up to them._ ** _However, a lot of this will not be done consensually. Please take my warning and if you don’t think you can handle it, take care of yourself._

_Current story rotation;_

_Jacob Seed [High Trauma]_

_Faith Seed [Low Trauma]_

_John Seed [Medium Trauma]_

_Joseph Seed [Controlled Trauma]_

**_Trauma levels are subject to change at any time._ **

* * *

 

  ****

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **_Jacob Seed will teach you a lesson. He'll teach you a lesson like he teaches the wolves a lesson. Obey. Free will should be an illusion, not a guarentee. He's obsessed with meat, so much that he might take a bite out of you. His darwinist beliefs stem from his own experience. If you don't want to be eaten, eat. If you don't want to be killed, be the killer. He tortures the wolves of Hope County until they become Judge Wolves- monstrousities, all meant to obey. They're not pets. They're killing machines. And Jacob? Jacob loves control. If he wants it, he'll make it happen._ **

**_Jacob Seed;_ **

_**_Non-con,_ **_abuse,_ ** _verbal abuse, aggression,_ **_dehumanization_ ** _, pet-play, embarrassment, exhibitionism,_ **_mental conditioning,_ ** _breaking, slavery,_ **_mental manipulation, animal abuse,_ ** _animal death, c_** _annibalistic undertones and suggestive materials involving cannibalisation,_ ****_one heavily traumatic cannibalization scene_** **_along with mentions and depictions of PTSD, yandere tendencies,_ _obsessions_ _and contains a few threesome scenes._ ** _ Jacob is especially prone to animal abuse._ _Full action control kink._**  
_

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **John Seed is explosive and abusive. He's the type to make you bend to his will, whether you want to or not. Be warned- where Jacob is scary, John is terrifying. He's obsessive and stalkerish, not afraid to hit you to get what he wants. Just because he was hit as a child doesn't mean he's against it- in fact, he's obsessively for it. A sadomasochistic man, John is _obsessed_ with cleansing sin. What better way than the way his parents did it? Watch out, he's quick to anger. Even quicker to cool down. Just don't push him too far.**

**_John Seed;_ **

_**  
**_Non-con,_** **_abuse,_** _aggression, mental manipulation, emotional abuse, _**_physical abuse,_** **_torture, emotional abuse,_** _cheating, jealousy, possessiveness,_ ** _one heavily traumatic torture scene , _**_mental abuse, deceit,_ ** _yandere tendencies and at least five hundred counts of creepily obsessive behaviour._**** _T_ _hreesome scenes- but fair warning, there’s also a_ _lot_ of death. _

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **She wants to hurt you, but she doesn't want you to know you're being hurt. Faith Seed is a twisted, sick manipulator. She knows she's making people leap to their deaths. She doubts the Father, but envies the deputy. Not many people can survive a run-in with her, because she's the type of girl to walk beside you on a path only to let you drop off the edge of a cliff because you were hallucinating in Bliss. Faith is _different._ Faith isn't a part of the original Seed family. She's brainwashed. She's jealous. She has sin, but she hides it well. The deputy is going to pay for coming into a world where Faith doesn't deem her welcome.**

**_Faith Seed;_ **

_**Emotional manipulation,** **lying, deceit, gaslighting,** netorare, orgies, lesbianism, **sexual tension, emotional relationship rather than sexual, dub!con, drugging, forced Bliss consumption, self-harm, making the deputy self-harm for her own entertainment, self-torture, hallucinations.** _

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **The man anyone in Hope County not under the jurisdiction of the cult would dread to meet. He is controlling, manipulative, coy, and intelligent, loved by his family and followers. He is known as the Father and definitely does not appreciate it when you call someone else Daddy. He doesn't appreciate it when you call him daddy, either. He knows deeply of sin, especially the sin of lust-something you'll find out soon enough. Has no sense of humor and is not quite prone to violence but will act as needed by god.**

**Joseph Seed;**

**Religious-play,** monogamous, **dominating,** **total control kink [what you wear, what you say, how you think, who you care about, why you exist and, of course, your religion.]** **worship-kink,** manipulation - mental, body language. **Non-con , ** bondage, forced religion,  **forced parental meeting** , cult rituals and **more to be added.**

  


* * *

 

**Defectum V 1.1**

_Quick notes so far;  
_

_\- Moving at some point, don't know when, may impede my ability to drop chapters every day. Will let you know when the time comes._

_\- Discord server! REEEEE the link is working now. Thanks for pointing out that it had expired!  
_

_[Link to Discord Server](https://discord.gg/MhFFzdF) _

* * *

 

**_New Info Section_ **

 

 

 

 

* * *

**Whew! That took longer than I'd like. Onto the next chapter!  
**


	2. i - The Order [Rewritten 2018-08-04]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Hope County, Deputy.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8QTQemiLhQ  
> Song for this chapter.

The chopper was aggressively loud; it was hard to hear anything over the whir of the blades, yet somehow my companion’s voices managed to shine through anyways. It was my first time inside one, so I was, so to say, rather nervous. The way it was being piloted kind of made my stomach squirm and heart drop at the thought of it crashing; but I think most of my nervousness could be attributed to the fact that we were quite literally at the scene of a cult. Glancing out of the side of the copter gave me a real eyeful of the situation; guns made me nervous, and there were a hell of a lot of those on the ground. Fires seemed to be littered across the property, in barrels and I was sure we could arrest half of these people for endangering the forest already. “There’s still an option to go back, Burke,” The sheriff said, his gruff voice filling my headset. It was a bit difficult to hear him even though I had one, which was sort of a nod to how much noise there was.

Marshal Burke. He was most certainly an asshole, not that I’d ever say it out loud. I’ve never actually been allowed to swear, but the man wasn’t god-sent. In fact, he was father-sent. By mine. A U.S. Marshal. “I don’t think so, Sheriff.” He replied with a biting tone, clearly meant to project the word ‘no’ without actually saying it. 

“I’m just saying that sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone.” As much as I’d like to agree with the sheriff, this was part of the job. Even if it terrified me, I disagreed with the idea of going back, because if this man- Joseph Seed- was really kidnapping and hurting people, then he deserved everything that was coming to him. My eyes still trailed out to the river, which would surely be beautiful in the light of day. A statue came into my peripherals, blocking my view of the beautiful background, and I grimaced. The man was worshipped reverently if they were building statues this big of him. Seeing that Marshal Burke clearly was not going to back down, the sheriff let out a sigh that snapped me back from my thoughts. 

It seemed like everyone else had also seen the statue, because the pilot certainly had something to say. “What a crazy motherfucker.” We had circled around twice- once over the actual compound and once around the statue, not that Burke noticed. He seemed a bit self-absorbed in his thoughts and I was sure it was because the Sheriff wanted to see if he couldn’t change the man’s mind.

“How much longer?” Burke asked, his patience shining through like the  _ beacon  _ of a man I was absolutely  _ positive  _ he was.

“Long enough for you to change your mind.” The sheriff tried again, to no avail.

“You want me to ignore a federal warrant, Sheriff?”

“No,” The sheriff had a calming demeanor about him- one that I rather enjoyed and specifically why I picked working as a deputy under him. “I want you to understand the reality of the situation, Marshal.” The man commanded respect. Not verbally, or physically, but his actions and the way he treated people showed how he deserved to be sheriff. “Joseph Seed- he’s not a man to be fucked with.” He was almost breathless, gazing blankly out the window and I could only imagine what kind of horrors the Sheriff had to go through with him; it had only been a week since I had been posted here. I was still going through getting a house. “We’ve had run-ins with him before and they haven’t always gone our way.” He shook his head. “I know you don’t wanna hear this again, but like I said before, sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone.”

“Yeah, well, we have laws for a reason, sheriff.” I did not have any respect for Marshal Burke in the slightest. The moron was just brushing off whatever the sheriff had to say without a care in the world. If the cult was dangerous, and he said it was dangerous, than it was dangerous. Burke lacked logic in this case. “Joseph Seed’s gonna learn that.” 

_ Oh, I’m sure he will, Burke. _ I thought sarcastically. What an asshole. I’d never say it out loud, but it was satisfying to keep saying it in my head. 

“Pratt,” The sheriff turned his head and Deputy Pratt leaned back to get what he had to say, “Open a call with dispatch.”

“10-4.” Pratt replied. I didn’t know him very well, but we were supposed to go for drinks tomorrow. Not just Pratt and I, but the entire department. It would be a good experience, along with finally being introduced to some of the locals. We just needed to get through this first. 

“Whitehorse to Dispatch, over.” I couldn’t hear the response clearly, but it was definitely a woman’s voice. “We’re approaching the compound, Nancy. Over.” So it was Nancy. She had actually been rather kind to me throughout my move, helping me find good property and a nice car. Nancy was a generous woman, albeit a little religious for my tastes. But hey, everyone has their flaws, and while religion might be a big one in my eyes it doesn’t make a person any less human or any less worthy of anything. 

“Roger, sheriff. Still planning to go through with this? Over.” Nancy was actually thirty-something years old, if I recall it correctly. Had a husband and a kid, and a dog. She also let me stay with her last night, too. I had been sleeping on couches, but this sunday there would be a welcome change once the purchase was finalized. 

“We are,” The sheriff replied in an exasperated tone. “Unfortunately still tryin’ to talk some sense into our friend the Marshal, over.” Burke rolled his eyes, unimpressed with how snarky the sheriff was being. It took all I had not to laugh.

“Oh, alright. Lucky I’m not there. You get into any trouble, just let me know .Over.” I liked Nancy. She was a strong, independent woman. Funny, too. More of a mother figure than anything else, even though I haven’t known her for long. Better than my actual one. I felt a bond with Nancy. Not sure why, maybe it was simply because she was helpful. I should probably stop looking at all of this so personally. Nancy was just a good person, helping out a coworker. 

“10-4, over and out.” The sheriff replied, abruptly signaling the end of their conversation. 

“Maybe we should’ve sent Nancy along with us instead of the probie. Peggies wouldn’t fuck with her.” Pratt joked, earning a hard glare from Hudson. 

“Pratt,” Deputy Hudson took a wary, warning tone. Of course he was talking about me, because I’d never made an arrest before, let alone shot anyone. Without a doubt, Nancy was probably a better choice than me, but I didn’t know how to work the radios yet. I would be no use when it came to the ancient, dated system the people of Hope County used.

“Why do you keep calling em peggies?” Marshal Burke asked, something I was also curious about.

“Project at Eden’s Gate. PEG. Peggies.” The sheriff said nonchalantly, as if that explained everything. It explained a bit, but not the whole story. “It’s what the locals call ‘em. They started off harmless enough a few years back, but now they are armed to the  _ teeth. _ They’re lookin’ for a fight.”

“Are you scared, sheriff?” Burke mocked and I really wanted to call him an asshole out loud but I held my tongue.

“We’re here. Compound’s just below.” Pratt interjected. I had seen it briefly when we flew over it the first time, but the second didn’t make it any less intimidating- there were more Peggies than before and I swore I could hear dogs barking aggressively. Now that the Marshal noticed, there were no re-flies around the compound. 

“Oh my jesus,” Hudson breathed, “This is a bad idea.”

“Last chance, Marshal.” 

He stared directly at me, as if waiting for input of some kind, but it seemed like all he was doing was clearing his mind. “We’re goin’ in.” 

“Don’t regret this later, Marshal Burke.” It was quiet, but I was sure he heard it. Warnings were warnings for a reason and to ignore said warnings meant that you’d fly too close to the fire and get burned like Icarus. I only hoped that I wouldn’t get burned along with my father’s over-eager lackey.

“Set her down, Pratt.”

“Roger that.”

The first thing that came to my mind was guns. There were men, and women, with guns strapped to their chest. People were coming in and out of the compound, which contained- of what I could see- a pretty white arch that read,  **CHURCH OF EDEN’S GATE.** With how friendly everything looked so far, I wondered why this gated community wasn’t the pinnacle of Hope County! Alright, so even if it wasn’t looking welcoming so far, maybe I was judging a book by its cover much too fast. I would prefer to meet Joseph Seed and judge for myself what kind of man he was. A misunderstanding? Most likely not, but there was good in people and a man who garnered this many followers had to have  _ something  _ to draw them in. 

Maybe he had redeeming qualities. 

The helicopter lurched as it finally touched ground. “Dispatch, you still there?” 

“Yep, still here, sheriff.”

“You don’t hear from us in fifteen minutes, send in everyone. Call the goddamned national guard if you have to, over.” I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that.

“Yes, sir, Sheriff. I’ll be praying for ya.” Nancy replied. It made me feel some kind of comfort knowing she was watching over us like some kind of guardian angel. Nancy’s words invigorated me with not only a sense of justice, but also of protection, like nothing could possibly go wrong. As the others took off their headsets I rushed to follow lead. 

“Now listen up!” The sheriff called to everyone in the copter. “Three rules; stick close, keep your guns in your holsters, and let me do the talking. Got it?” Simple enough. Rules that were easy to follow, straightforward and hard to fuck up.

“Got it.” Burke confirmed.

“Rookie?”

“Uh, yes.” I replied, feeling a bit out of place. I had been quiet this entire time, trying to keep myself unnoticed. 

“Alright everyone, stay sharp. Let’s go!” The sheriff barked, and just like that we were out of the helicopter and on the ground. It was a much more terror-inducing experience on the floor, because we were surrounded by grungy men and women who I was positive hadn’t had a shower in weeks at the least. The barking got louder as we proceeded to the heart of the compound, men and women gathering around us and following us, watching our every move. “They’ll be in the church. Stay close.” As if I’d lag behind in a situation like this. “Eyes open. These folks can spook easily.” Spook? I tried to think of what that could mean. With a gun in their hands, spooking didn’t sound like it could be a fun experience.

A man begun to swing his bat back and forth, “What’re you doin’ here?” 

“Rook, stay on me. Stay close.” Hudson was protective and in a good way. The best way, considering the man brandishing the bat- which was  _ studded,  _ by the way and most certainly looked like it would be agony to have your head bashed in with- was doing so with a menacing stare. 

More men stepped forwards, fingers on the triggers of their guns as if they were ready to unload an entire round into our bodies at any time. I felt fear, fear that was definitely not just limited to an overactive imagination. These men didn’t just look the part; they were the part. They  _ would  _ and  _ could  _ harm us. My stomach lurched at the thought, because we were outmanned and outgunned. Suddenly this seemed like a very, very stupid idea and I was beginning to understand the sheriff’s perspective on this.

We continued through the courtyard, the hushed whispers of the cult reaching our ears every now and then. Sometimes I could make out a line or two, but it all blended together in the long run, most becoming incoherent babble that didn’t sound important. 

“Just go about your business, this doesn’t concern you!” Well, they looked very concerned- a giant bonfire burned behind a gate and I wondered how safe that fire actually was. That’s a fire hazard, right? I had never seen one so big, let alone been at a bonfire.

“Sheriff, I don’t like this.” 

“Everything’s fine, Hudson.” As much as I’d like to believe the Sheriff’s soothing words, the guns were speaking louder and in a different tone. “It’s just fine.”

I was now crossing under the gates to the church. There were two here and crates and sacks were piled up on top of each other. I wondered what could be inside of these things, but my thoughts were cut short by Burke’s intelligence.

“Jesus christ, you’re wearing badges, aren’t you?” Marshal Burke chimed in with what was clearly an idiotic statement. 

“Yeah, but they don’t respect badges out here.”

“They’ll respect a nine-millimeter.” Oh, Burke. As charming as you were ten seconds ago.

“Not every problem can be solved with a bullet, Marshal.” 

The barking got even louder and way more aggressive as we approached the church. A woman approached one of the closed gates at the side, holding a leash tight while a dog clashed with the gates, trying to get through. “What’re you doin?! Whaddyou want?!”

I didn’t really have an answer for her, so I ignored her- which had seemed like the best and brightest idea at the time. Waiting for a response, the lady stared me down, eyes never moving away once even as I was clearly about to be out of view. Rather than directly following everyone to the church doors, I lingered outside for a moment. My hands ventured over the iron fence overlooking the lake and if it was the day- if there weren’t cultists- this would be a gorgeous view and a great place to take pictures. I would have to come back with a camera sometime. 

Of course Burke’s actions would interrupt my peace of mind as he had a hand on his gun and the other reaching for the church doors, which I could hear singing echoing from. The Sheriff’s hand snapped to the wood above the handle, giving him a hard-earned stare. “Whoa, Marshal. We do this, we do it my way. Quietly.  _ Calmly. _ ” He put extra oomph on the calmly. Although it might be funny to see Burke lose his shit, it was not a good time for that right now and I hoped that I’d never have to meet him again after this business was over. 

There was nothing I could say to this man, because while I aggressively  _ despised  _ him, he answered to my father. If I pissed Burke off, the report he’d give would  _ not  _ be in my favor and I was  _ positive  _ that Burke had no objections about being petty enough to falsify a report. The last thing I needed right now was my family hanging around or trying to forcibly bring me back. 

“Fine.” He replied, putting both arms up in a  _ whatever  _ motion, dropping them back down only to have one settle on his gun again. Something told me he didn’t really understand. 

“Hudson, on the door. Watch our backs.” Couldn’t argue with that logic- if the Peggies rushed me, I wouldn’t be able to hold it. Hudson might have a chance. “Don’t let any of these people get in. Rookie,” I snapped to attention, showing I was at least listening, “On me.”

“Yes, sir.” I replied.

“And you,” He nodded toward Burke, “Just try not to do anything stupid.”

I miserably failed to stifled a laugh and Burke, Hudson and Whitehorse looked over at me like I was insane. “Sorry.” 

Still, Burke turned to the sheriff after giving me a glare that I most certainly earned. “Relax, Sheriff, you’re about to get your name in the paper.” He clapped his hand onto the sheriff’s shoulder and every word of it was more mocking than not. He was treating the sheriff like a child rather than a learned man. 

Deputy Hudson had a few kind words for me after seeing the nervous expression on my face. “You’ll be fine,” She soothed. I appreciated it, but I wasn’t so sure. Still, I gave her a smile and a nod as I turned back to the sheriff swinging open the church doors, to which I finally noticed- there was a carving on the left and right sides. I couldn’t make them out now, but that was irrelevant. It was go-time. 

“Something is coming.” A man spoke, the sound reverberating through the entire church. Ahead of us it looked like there were two armed guards. “You can feel it, can’t you?” No, I couldn’t, although I was curious as to what he was talking about.

As the Marshal hit a creaking floorboard much too loudly, a few of the cultists turned to stare him down, but made no other move. “We are creeping toward the edge,” The man’s shadow was long, and he stood at the altar of the church, but not behind it- rather in front of it. “And there will be a reckoning.” 

The men turned back to look at who I could only assume was Joseph Seed for guidance. “That is why we started the Project, because we know what happens next!” His voice had jumped a decibel higher. “They will come,” Burke signalled confusion, with a ‘are we really going to let him continue speaking’ gesture, while the sheriff simply put up a calming hand to settle down the giant baby who needed attention at  _ all times.  _ “They will try to take from us, take our guns, take our freedom, take our  _ Faith. _ ” Nobody was looking to take any of those things, buddy. “We will not let them!”

“Sheriff, come on.” 

“Just hold on, Burke.”

Oh my dear god, he was shirtless. “We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity, hurt us anymore!” Dear god, please put on a shirt. I tried to avert my eyes, as I was taught by my mother. I noticed that in the background, three people stood near him- one a very good-looking young man, wearing a rather long coat.

“Sheriff-”

“Settle  _ down.”  _

“There will be no more suffering!”

“Oh, fuck this!” Burke was going to do something stupid. “Joseph Seed!” He shouted and the church fell silent. He held up a single slip of paper like it was the king and all should bow before it. “I have a warrant issued for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with intent to harm. Now I want you to step forward,” It seemed like a lot of cultists were doing that now, “And keep your hands where I can see ‘em.” And for the love of God, please add that he should put on a shirt. The man raised his arms complicitly.

“There they are. The locusts in our garden.” I’d prefer to be a butterfly, but I’d take what I could get. “See, they’ve come for me.” Cultists began to accumulate at the base of the altar, their guns in hand, ready to fire. “They’ve come to take me away from you.” This raised discontent with the cultists. “They’ve come to destroy all that we’ve built!” I took a step back, noting that there were at least eight grown men staring me down at this point and maybe the best idea would be to walk away. He had dropped his hands in the process. 

The voices of the cultists raised and of course Burke’s first reaction would revolve around his firearm. “Do not touch that service weapon!” The sheriff barked and all I could do was watch this failure of an arrest happen miserably. “Hold on and stand down! Stand down! Everyone calm down!”

Joseph Seed stepped down from his altar and one of the people behind him had managed to creep up to its side while I wasn’t looking. His hands brushed the shoulders of his followers. “We knew this moment would come. We’ve prepared for it,” Another man seemed to stop at the side of the altar. He was more rugged than the other one, who was neat and cleanly. He had red hair, very red hair- and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Go,” The girl was coming now, as the red-haired man stepped forwards, being directly behind Joseph. The two men stared me down as if they had a grudge on me but it seemed like they suddenly got preoccupied with something else when I stared back. “Go. God will not let them take me.” 

As the cultists passed me by, I dodged and weaved, avoiding touching them at all costs. 

“I saw when the lamb opened the first seal and I heard as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying, ‘come and see!’” The Father exclaimed, his hands risen to the roof. I wondered if he really was insane. 

“Step forward.” Burke commanded.

“And I saw.” The Father took a step towards Burke, pointing an accusatory finger, “And behold,” His eyes scanned the room as his hand dropped. “It was a white horse.” His gaze stopped on me, hard and cold. “And hell followed with him.” His hands came up, and I swore that he was being complacent- he talked a lot, but he didn’t physically resist, which should count for something. 

“Rookie,” I turned my head toward Burke, “Cuff this sonuvvabitch.” This was as disrespectful as I expected Burke to be. 

“God will not let you take me.” 

“Rook, cuff him.” Burke insisted.

The man before me seemed to speak with a sense of clarity. He knew what he was talking about, but he didn’t seem  _ that  _ bad other than his creepy religious sermons. But cuffing him was the one thing I couldn’t do. “Sometimes it’s just best to walk away.”

He was shirtless, which was  _ very  _ distracting, and most definitely about twice my age. I was feeling nervous, self conscious, because all of these people except the girl looked to be older than me. Compared to the other members of the cult, these ones seemed cleanly, save for the redhead. He looked grungy, like he’d been crawling around in dirt for the past week.

“Rook.” Burke snapped, getting tired of the fact that I wasn’t listening. His voice had a different tone to it, low and threatening compared to the previous. “Don’t make me say it again, Rook. This won’t look good on the report to your father. Do I need to call your daddy to get you to cuff a criminal?”

“No,” I replied hastily, “Please don’t.” I may have looked pathetic at that moment, but I didn’t care. If my father got wind of this, it would mean hell for me. And good to see Burke still retained how much of an asshole he was even deep in enemy territory.

“Then do it.”

Joseph Seed watched the altercation between Burke and I with curious green eyes. It seemed like everyone had heard, much to my despair. “I’m not allowed to touch men.” I said quietly, my eyes downcast. 

“What are you, a muslim?” 

“No, my mother just believed that if I touch a man, it would degrade the quality of woman I am in the eyes of God.” It was embarrassing, but it was the truth. Hopefully it would be enough to quell Burke and have him do it himself.

“Well, Dep, it’s your lucky day. You get to touch a man.”

The Father held out his wrists patiently, but the way he was looking at me was different than before. His eyes were softer. 

“Alright, I’m calling him.”

“No.” I could say it, but I didn’t know if I could do it. If I underperformed here, let my mother’s ‘teachings’ get in the way of my job, they’d be able to pull me back to our godforsaken family home. I feared my mother’s reaction, but most of all I feared what I’d suffer for this. The last time was the most horrid ten minutes of my life.

I took one of Joseph Seed’s wrists into my hand, feeling his pulse. It was slow and rhythmic, and I was sure my own was slowing down to match his. I wondered his exact age, but I guessed thirty-five. Compared to my twenty going on twenty one, that was about a fifteen year difference. “I apologize if it hurts, but this is my first arrest.” Each cuff made a solid clanking sound as I locked them around Joseph’s wrists. I gently tugged him forward and the man seemed to follow willingly. I looked back and his Heralds stared me down. The aggression in their eyes was clear, but Joseph was different. His gaze was  _ gentle.  _ I couldn’t explain it without sounding as insane as he did. As I stepped to the side, he took the front, behind Burke and the Sheriff. “Thank you for coming quietly.” 

Burke shot me a glare. “Don’t waste pleasantries on this asshole.” 

As we walked through the yard, voices rose in protest. We were taking the Father- the one they all cherished so much, but his voice rang out to his followers. “Don’t fear, my children. God will not let them take me.” How did he manage to be so confident? I kind of wished that he could share his confidence with me- perhaps if I was more outspoken, more sure in my path, I would have been able to choose my own much sooner than at twenty. 

“Hold him more firmly, Rook.” Burke said, referring to the fact I had my hands at my sides rather than on the lawbreaker. With an ounce of hesitation, I raised my hand to press firmly into Joseph Seed’s back, shivers running down my spine from the contact. More soft skin, but there were words carved into him- I forgot my job for a moment, my hesitations about touching the man as my fingers trailed down his back and over those scars- gluttony, greed… it must have been painful, same as the tattoos. I stopped at lust, my face flushing a bright red as my fingertips lingered on the word. 

The Father turned his upper body slightly, staring me down. I withdrew my hand in a flash before getting yet another glare from Burke, which caused me to bring it back up to his shoulder. No more distractions. I avoided Joseph’s stare and ignored him as we approached the chopper. As everyone got in, I pushed Joseph upward but I myself almost failed and fell backward in the process but the man was rather resilient. It seemed like the leader of the cult planted his feet to the point where I was hanging off of him like a god-damned monkey. How strong was this man? He let me use him to steady myself and pull myself up before he sat down. His sit was cocky at best, legs slightly spread apart as he leaned against the back of the seat. After a moment of staring, I plopped down next to him and clipped in my seatbelt. 

What happened next was like one might see in a video game or movie, something that none of us expected. He had come willingly, or so I had thought and thanked him for. The look on my face was one of despair as the cult members clung and crawled over the helicopter, swarming it like flies- all the while the Father was calm as ever. Everyone was panicking and the helicopter was spinning and all I could think was,  _ how many lives were going to be lost today?  _ I had a gun but I never thought I was going to use it. 

I screamed along with the others, my eyes wide open, terror coursing through me- the thought of death lead me into the depths of fear, but in my fear I saw the Father- he was as calm as day, as if he was taking a walk in the morning through a pleasant forest, not like he was about to crash into the ground and die. 

Within mere moments, there was nothing but darkness and confusion, pain racking my entire body and harmonizing to make even more pain. It felt like my brain had been put through a blender and my vision was absolutely blurry but I could make out licks of flame in the background, soon realizing I wasn’t upside up, but upside down. What had happened? It took me but a moment to realize that the Peggies had caused us to crash. I could hear the sound of someone panicking, the static of the radio coming through, but I couldn’t quite make out the words. Looking around the area, everyone was accounted for. Everyone but the Father.

“Amazing grace,” The voice was gentle and distorted, almost distant, “How sweet the sound,” Swinging and attempting to reach for the headset as I seemed to be the only conscious person in the headset, hope filled me. We could get help for the job we couldn’t do ourselves, for what we failed to do. It was tough work and it felt like my head was about to burst but I needed to reach it. I couldn’t identify who was singing, nor where it was coming from but the words were becoming clearer with each passing second. Finally managing to reach out and grab the headset, a hand clasped onto my wrist, locking it in place. Green eyes stared me down with contempt, or at least what I took as contempt. “That saved,” I wondered why he was singing, why he had to sing now; the helicopter was on fire. It seemed like he drew himself closer to me, uncomfortably closer. The half-naked man was touching me and I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. “A wretch,” If he wasn’t staring at me with contempt then, he certainly was now. “Like me.”

As a result, the headset slipped from my fingers and he withdrew his hand. He scared me. Everything about this man terrified me, and I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it until now. His eyes, his expressions, it set a terror in me that I couldn’t contain.

“Please, are you there?! Is somebody there?! Please!” Ironically, now I could hear the voice in the headset clearly, but my fear kept me from calling out. Poor Nancy- she had no idea what was happening.  


“I told you that God wouldn’t let you take me.” He said, without breaking eye contact. His tone was low, absolute. He continued staring for a few more seconds, paralyzing me with fear. 

“Please! I need to know what’s going on.” The woman’s voice was desperate, on the brink of tears. All I could think was that she cared for someone who had been in this helicopter dearly. The Father reached out, taking the headset into his hand and pulling it back to him. He stared blankly in my direction. 

“Dispatch?”

“Oh my god.” Nancy sounded breathless.

The Father’s lip curled into a smile. 

Dread filled my heart.

“Everything is just fine here. No need to call anyone.” He cocked his head slightly. 

“Yes Father. Praise be to you.” It sounded like she couldn’t contain her excitement.

As he dropped the headset, letting it swing away, he leaned in close- closer than he had before- and murmured, “No one is coming to save you, Virgin Mary.” With that, he turned away, getting out of the helicopter. The voices of his followers came into the clearing, praising the fact that their leader was unharmed. 

All I could hear were the echoes of Nancy, her response.

The world was already long gone. 


	3. ii - Virgin Mary

“Oh, no! No! Rook, incoming!” It was like the world had slowed down to a pace where I could finally keep up with it. The radio blared a song I’ve heard maybe a hundred times recently, and my eyes trailed up to the banner on the bridge as the music filled my head. _ Almost heaven, west virginia. Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River. Life is old there, older than the trees. Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze. _

The power of yes.

As the bridge was taken out, chunks of everything flew everywhere and the radio hit me smack-dab in the middle of the forehead.  _ Country roads, take me home _

_ To the place I belong _

_ West Virginia, mountain mama  
_

_ Take me home, country roads _

All I could think was,  _ wrong fucking region, God. _

We flew over the rail; no, through it. Directly into the water and I could feel the pain of the river hitting me. Water wasn't supposed to hurt, but this water almost _burned._ The radio was silent, the world was unnaturally quiet and I had no idea what was happening. The universe went dark and I was pulled into nothingness. Despite that, I hung on, even with my rather blurry vision. Long enough to see Marshal Burke break a window. He swam upwards, far from the belly of the lake. What was the point? The bottom of the lake held so much more than up there ever could. It was lonely here now, because Burke was gone, but maybe loneliness was good for me.   


If I remain here, at the bottom of the lake, all of my hardships would be over. Nothing would bother me any longer. I wouldn't feel pain. Maybe for a couple moments, but it would be gone soon after. My lungs were screaming, telling me that I didn't have the time to weigh the pros and cons, when I recalled that Burke wasn't the only one in the helicopter- that while the Father was fine, what about the others? As a Deputy, I had an obligation to the people. Right now, my obligation was to live. Despite wanting to stay, I crawled out of the window of the car which had luckily remained open, swimming for the surface. The lake around me went dark and all I could see was a light above, a light that I subconciously told myself to swim toward. It didn't matter what was on the other end, I'd deal with it then and there. 

~ 

It had been mere moments since the crash. The Father settled against the truck, leaning back into it, remembering the soft touch of his Virgin Mary. Many of his followers chased after her, shots ringing into the dark. The voice told him that she would find her way back to him unharmed, that her purpose would shine through and shine brilliantly.

His family approached from behind, but he didn’t turn to acknowledge them, rather staring off into the flames of the wreckage. “Take one each,” He said, referring to the deputy’s friends.

“What about the ones that escaped?” Jacob asked and Joseph knew that if he said a word, Jacob would go after them in seconds, hunting them down. He seemed jumpy. Eager. 

“They will not get very far.” With that, Joseph pushed off from the car and turned to his heralds, that telling smile on his lips; the Seeds knew that meant that good things were to come of this. “I told you that you may die in the service of God, that you may end up as sacrifices, but I have been shown another path.”

This caught the attention of his Heralds, who waited for what the Father had to say. They were always so patient for him and that pleased him. “Are you sure, Father?” Faith asked.

He took a single glance at Faith, which quieted her. “It will take patience. Forgiveness. Time. Pain.” He received his book from one of his Followers who had rushed it out after seeing the helicopter crash. “Love.” 

“I have more than enough patience for whatever task you ask of me, Father.” Jacob almost rolled his eyes at the overachiever Faith. He never liked ‘er. She was just a means to an end and had the know-how to make people follow her, but when it came to the bliss, he was the real brains behind the operation. Running his hand up the rashes on his forearms, he knew the blistering was because of the way he handled the bliss. Patience was something he had. He knew how to wait for something. Faith would be replaced again soon enough by one of the others. 

“I have found our very own Virgin Mary.”

This piqued the interest of the Heralds. “You may do whatever it takes to show her the way. No matter what action she takes, she is not beyond saving. She must be saved. Her sins are few, but they are enough to need redemption. Hunt her down. Show her the way. Do not kill her.” It was an absolute order, one that the Heralds would take very seriously. “Do not fear her. The Virgin Mary is not strong physically or mentally. It should be simple.” 

John opened the door to the truck and the father stepped away, watching him with curious eyes. “I'll focus my men on finding the escapees. Faith has bliss to tend to, Jacob needs to get his rogue Judge Wolf under control.” Hearing a grunt from their older brother it seemed like Jacob wasn't pleased to be reminded of his failure. A particularly nasty wolf was driven past its capabilities in conditioning and ended up getting free, ripping out the necks of his followers. Damn wolf’s caused more trouble than it's worth. 

John was certain to return with something. The Father did not doubt his brother’s skill. Joseph was not one to underestimate people, and the Virgin Mary was definitely everything he said she would be. Rook had no idea what was coming for her, nor what would haunt her for the rest of her days. Hell would be on her heels, but would she be strong enough to face it?

The Father was confident that she would fail.

As he stared after her, he remembered the expression on her face and her touch. God had truly given him a gift, one that would surely assist during the collapse. She just needed to  _ see  _ first. To  _ experience  _ their side and see why the side she was on was wrong. 

~

Crashing hurt. Pain. So much pain. Why did there have to be any pain at all? He’d asked me to  _ hurt  _ people. He wanted me to throw a stick of dynamite. I would never- I could never- hurt those people. It wasn’t their fault that they were a part of the cult, right? They were brainwashed. Kidnapped. That’s what the report said. How could I strike someone who wasn’t in control of their actions? Not even strike,  _ kill.  _

I couldn’t butcher an innocent human being. The only time I’d ever shot a gun was at a range, police force training. My father had thought about showing me how to hunt once, but concluded I’d only slow the hunting party down. Getting up to walk was currently out of the question, which meant for now I was stuck on this shore, the shallows lapping at my legs and wetting my clothes. 

I wouldn't even bother with getting up, because pangs were racing up and down my legs and it felt like there was a frog stuck in my throat. All I did was pull myself back, propping myself against the back of a rock and cursing my currently useless legs. Rips and tears covered my clothing and I had a gaping wound on my left leg that seemed to be turning my pant leg red. I was so mad. So angry.  _ Why?  _ What was the point of what Joseph Seed did? I racked my brain trying to understand why he couldn't just come quietly. Maybe we just saw the world in different ways but death… all of that death was  _ his  _ fault. And the Marshal, he just ran through that blockade like it was nothing. 

I took this chance, this moment of peace and quiet, to survey my surroundings. I heard a scream, my head swivelling towards the other bank. Luckily it was dark, otherwise the cultists would have seen me- but I could hear Burke screaming and I was in no shape to play hero. I apologized to him in my head, hoping that somehow fantasies could become real and that he'd hear my voice or something or know how sorry I was, but even I knew that sometimes things didn't work out the way you wanted them to. "There were two in the truck!" A cult goon called. "Check in the trees!" In that moment, I realized it was me that they were looking for and that Burke was a momentary distraction. "Check the shoreline!" Water, check. Me, check. If they checked the shoreline, they'd find me. That was rather problematic, but I wasn't about to move. I wouldn't be able to.   


"No! Get off me! I'm a united states Federal Marshal, you can't do this!" I don't think they cared whether or not they could do anything, Burke. I was talking to him even though he couldn't hear me. Maybe I was going insane from one too many knocks in the head. 

"This one needs a little Faith. Take him to the pilagrimage." I wasn't going to even attempt stringing those words into a sentence I could comprehend. "Find the other one. Keep searching."

I heard the footsteps behind me and careened my neck upwards, looking up at a man with a grimace on his face as he studied me carefully. “ _ Tch _ .” 

Hearing more complaining from Burke in the background. He was kind of an asshole. "No! Let go of me. You're all under arrest! All of you!" I didn't know if I said it to myself or out loud, but at this point it didn't really matter. Another witty retort about how they probably didn't care and his jurisdiction probably wasn't legitimate in the eyes of the cult.

I could feel him pick me up, but at the same time my head was swimming. I tried to count the concussions I'd collected today- two, maybe three?- but all of that was drowned out by the painful noise of static in my head. My vision blurred again and I felt myself go limp. Whoever this is, without them I’d probably have been caught by the cult. It was lucky for me. Really, really lucky. 

But a thought hit my head before I passed out. 

What if he's a part of the cult?

~

“My children…” It seemed like my conciousness wasn’t done with me yet. His voice echoed in my ears.  _ Him.  _ The Father. A part of me wanted to walk up to him and call him an asshole. Burke too. While we’re at it, this guy who’s jerking me around like I’m a sack of flour is an asshole too. Hell, everyone’s an asshole. What a fun word to say. Asshole. I wonder why I was never allowed to say it up until now. “We must give thanks to god. The day I have prophesied to you has arrived.” 

“Asshole!” It seemed I had finally found my words. The man carrying me only grunted. Maybe in agreement? Or was it a no-grunt? This depended on my life. If he was a cultist, then so be it. “Assholeassholeassholeassholeassshole.” I said it until I messed it up. Interesting tounge-twister.  


“Everything I told you has come true.”

“The fuck it has.” I replied, as if I was actually talking to the man himself.

“The authorities-”

“That’s meee!” My head still hurt a little and I wasn’t sure why I was talking but it was more of an urge to respond to the man.

“-Who tried to take me from you are now in the loving embrace of my Family, save for one.”

“Someone’s made him aaaaangry.” There was no point in responding. He couldn’t hear me. But I kept doing it anyways. Maybe I’d get a response.

“But this wayward soul will be found… They will be punished…” At this point, I had no witty rebuttal. The pain of my _several_ concussions was now mixing together for fun-time.My mind was scrambled beyond repair at the moment. “And in the end, they will see our glorious purpose…”

What an _asshat._

Oh. Fun new word!


	4. iii - Don't Forget Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://discord.gg/87sgeG
> 
> We have opened a Discord server.
> 
> Tumblr.  
> https://thecultmother.tumblr.com/
> 
> Toyhou.se.  
> https://toyhou.se/CultMother
> 
> Twitter.  
> https://twitter.com/cult_mother
> 
> Feel free to join us- and feel the embrace of the Mother with live updates- on Discord! Come and mingle with me. ♥

My head was agony itself. I couldn’t breathe and my eyes wouldn’t open. All I could feel was pain racking every inch of my body, but the pain meant I was alive. The first thought in my head was how much I swore at Joseph Seed and I hoped that the cultist that had captured me hadn’t told him because I don’t think he would take being called an asshat very well- I was never so vulgar, so I have no idea why I was yesterday. The dull throbbing in my head tells me that my concussion is most definitely still there.

What I saw when I opened my eyes, however, was my hands strapped to a bedpost with a couple of zip-ties. My head jerked around as I tried to get my bearings, only to find a man with his back faced to me hanging over what looked like a square. My vision was still hazy, so I couldn’t make out who it was. “I am your Father. You are my Children, and together, we will march to--” The voice shut off, and the man turned back to me.

“You know what that shit means?” He asked and if he wanted a response I wasn’t so sure I was in any shape to give one. I tried shaking my head from side to side, but only managed to lob it forward slightly. “It means the roads have all been closed.” He began walking toward me and I saw the light shine off of the bald man’s head. “It means the phone lines have been cut.” He took a seat and finally my vision stopped being so scattered. The man was wearing a faded boston brothers shirt along with a camo jacket. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing faded tattoos up and down the man’s arms. “It means there’s no signals getting in or out of this valley.” He paused for a moment. “But mostly, it means we’re all fucked.”

Well, he was rather blunt. I wasn’t so sure what was happening- I just remembered hitting the water and watching Burke get dragged away. I didn’t know how I came by this man, nor why he was so upset. The cultists were mostly harmless, were they not? And I say mostly very lightly. Mostly to anyone who didn’t disturb them or impeach on their gun rights.

He sighed, looking away momentarily before his eyes dropped to the floor and he slumped over in an exhausted fashion. He rose his head slowly, looking at me with piercing eyes. “The goddamn “Collapse”... they all think the world’s comin’ to an end, now.” The only world that came to an end last night was my own. Or is it still this night? Fuck it. There was no point in keeping track of time. And Nancy… she was a part of that cult too. Damn it. God fucking damn it. I was making my own life. I had escaped crazy fucking religion, just barely, only to be thrust into maybe even worse religion. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t dare speak. Not yet. There’d be plenty of time for screaming later after I found out what the fuck was going on. ”They’ve been waitin’ for it. For years. Waitin’ for somebody to come along and fulfill their prophecy and kick off their goddamn holy war.”

Well, _fuck_.

“Well, you sure as shit kicked.”

Double fuck.

“The smartest thing for me to do would just be to hand you over.”

Triple fuck!

“Fuck…” He sighed.

My thoughts exactly.

He got up and my eyes were glued to him, body rigid. He wasn’t really going to hand me over to that death-trap, was he? I had half the mind to open my mouth and beg for him not to, but my throat was fucking shot for sure. The best I could manage was a meager croak, which got a confused stare from my mysterious savior. Or fucker. This man could fuck my plans for the next few days, which could result in me getting caught by the cult and walk whatever pilgrimage they’ve got planned for Burke. The man pulled out a fucking pocket knife and leaned down and I prayed to the lord above that he wouldn’t gut me. However,  
Instead of gutting me, he cut the zip-ties holding my hands in place.

Thank fucking god. He stood up, towering over me, and I sat still, not sure whether I was free to go or if there were conditions to my release. “Get out of that uniform. We need to burn it. There’s some fresh clothes there,” He gestured to a little iron closet, “When you get changed, you come and see me. We’ll see if we can un-fuck this situation.”

“There’s nothing I’d love more.” I replied hoarsely, my voice sounding like roadkill ran twice over.

The man took a deep breath before turning away and walking out the door.

In the following day, I learned that his name was Richard ‘Dutch’ Roosevelt. Most called him Dutch. A respected figure in the community, as far as I knew. He said that I seemed to have a bit of ‘bunker fever’ because of how reluctant I was to leave the area and move around the island, but I was even more reluctant to pick up the gun. Come the second day I decided to stay, Dutch approached me with a little box of electricity.

“A taser.” He said, dropping it on one of the medical beds I had been sleeping on. “Just because you’re a fuckin’ pussy when it comes to guns.”

“I just believe that we don’t need to kill people to get our point across.”  
“You keep having that mindset, you’re gonna get you killed, little girl.”

Honestly, staying with Dutch was a bit of what I needed. Although I was sore and I was having some difficulties moving about, the man taught me what I needed to know- stealth and hunting.

“Pick up the fuckin’ gun, Rook.”

“I don’t want to pick up the gun, Dutch.” I retorted.

Dutch circled round and picked the gun he had brought up off the rock, only to forcibly shove it into my arms. “That’s too fuckin’ bad, pussy.” He taught me how important camouflage really was, and that it could save a life if necessary. That if I didn’t want to get caught by the cult while rocking weapons that weren’t exactly firepower, I’d need to change the way I thought, lived and acted, all at once.

Dutch was a nice guy. His affectionate nickname for me, ‘pussy’, seemed to come from a fond place. The man swore more than a soldier, but he was a good teacher.

“Alright, Rook. Aim a little more to the left. The left, dumbass.”

“I am aiming to the left.”

“That’s the right. This is the left.”

“You should have said to your left.” The elk I was aiming at spooked at the sound of my raised voice, hackles locking up as it ran for its life. I let out a groan and Dutch smacked the back of my head, cracking my face into the mud. “The hell was that for?!”

“You let it get away, pussy. Shoulda took the shot.”

Although the days were full of strenuous physical activity, which included running through the woods and climbing, eventually I was able to climb a tree. Dutch never quite asked why I had issues with these things, why I wasn’t able to run through the woods without breathing up a storm, or even why I wasn’t a swimmer. I appreciated that about him, but he for sure had to be curious.

If Dutch had been my father, I’d have been locked away in the bunker, the guns would be placed somewhere out of my reach and I’d be in women’s clothes rather than a man’s ill-fitting tank-top and cargo pants. But Dutch wasn’t my father. In all honesty, he was more hands-on… no. That wasn’t accurate. He treated me differently, in a way my father never had. He taught me things.

“If you think I’m gonna be cookin’ you fuckin’ dinner on top of having you in my bunker, you’ve gotta nother thing comin’ to ya, pussy.”

“I don’t know how to cook.” I admitted, fidgeting. Dutch hated when I did that. He said if my hands weren’t busy, then I wasn’t living life right. I should always be doing something and not just with a phone. Mine didn’t work too well, anyways. I would be surprised if my mother wasn’t having a fit about me not replying to her texts, not that I could.

Dutch stared me down on the other side of the table, slapping the magazine down. “Well, fuck, Rook, you can’t do much of anything, now, can ya?”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Keep saying that and maybe you’ll start believin’’ it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think ya know exactly what I mean by that, Rook.”

“I don’t think I do.”

At this point, Dutch picked the magazine back up and started flipping through it, putting his feet up on the table. “I don’t know what kinda fuckin’ upbringing you had. I don’t fuckin’ care. It has nothing to do with what you can or can’t do. You have something to do with what you can or can’t do and if you want somethin’ hard enough you’ll fuckin’ make it happen. Sayin’ anything else, blamin’ it on anyone else, just means you’re fuckin’ lazy.”

I was appalled. Nobody had ever called me lazy before. Speechless was probably a better word for it. When I sat down and thought about it, which I did, facing the fish tank in Dutch’s bunker, I realized Dutch was right. My parents were strict, and they did punish me in ways that no person should touch another person, but they didn’t stop me from doing anything. If I wanted to do something I full well had the ability to do it- I just needed to be able to take the consequences.

I never quite expected a man in a bunker to have as much of an impact on me as Dutch did, but there was a reason for everything.

It was the fourth night. I wasn’t quite keeping track, but it was finally time. Even Dutch seemed to be growing tired of my company and I couldn’t just stay in his bunker forever. “Look, kid. I wouldn’t mind keepin’ ya here if we were in a more… normal situation. But we’re not. And if you don’t go now, you’re never gonna be gone. I’m not saying I don’t want ya here, but you’ve gotta fix what you’ve fucked and it’s a long ass haul away from being fixed, so…”  
“You’re kicking me out.” I finished for him.

“Yeah, basically.”

Walking up the stairs, Dutch followed behind. He went quiet he reached the top. “You finally got one, Rook.”

“Yeah.” I nodded to the carcass of a deer propped up against a tree.

“Surprised ya didn’t scare it off.”

“Me too. But you were right, Dutch.” He made a hhmph? noise, signalling he’d forgotten what we were talking about. “I need to fix the mistakes I’ve made. I need to learn more. Nothing is stopping me from doing anything but myself, and I’ve already said it- I don’t need a bullet to solve my problems.” I unhooked the taser from my belt and shook it side to side. “But I do need to solve them. And I’m going to do it, whether people support my choices or not.”

 

**~**

 

As Dutch watched the rookie deputy walk away, he kind of felt proud. They had only been together for a few days but it felt like he had taught her somethin’. He’d support her the best he could bein’ the eyes in the security cameras and the ear to the radios.

There was one thing he didn’t tell her, though. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in her, but facts were facts- she couldn’t win this fight without taking up a gun. And fact’s fact, if push came to shove and the Dep wasn’t available for duty anymore, Dutch would look out for himself first and the rest of Hope County last. If the Dep wasn’t making any progress, who says the resistance would?

He wished the Deputy all the best, and his radio lit up.

“I never told you my name, did I, Dutch?”

“Nope.” He replied.

“It’s-”

 

**~**

 

Rook’s methods had been… unique. Jacob would admit that much. He was actually rather impressed at the fact that Rook had not yet killed a single one of his men. So much for the plan he had devised- a careful, intricate plan meant to garner the reactions of his men- to make Rook the enemy. But, it proved to him one thing. Rook was an absolute moron. A coward? Perhaps. What did she expect to gain by not taking lives? Humility? did she want to feel above the cultists? He couldn’t figure it out. He had seen a lot of things in war. A lot of nasty, dark and degrading things.

“Pratt.” Jacob twisted the handle on his music box, again and again, each turn of the key resulting in Pratt’s body jerking in a different way. “What do you know about Deputy Rook?”

Pratt was rocking on his knees, back and forth. “She- she’s just a girl. She’s just a rookie.”

“Anything personal?”

“She’s single.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Jacob’s eyes darkened. It was an insult to him that Pratt even thought the deputy was worthy; she was just a rat in a maze, as Faith put it. But a smart rat in the maze. Maybe not the brightest, but bright enough. No- not bright enough. He’d have her. She couldn’t run. “Only you can make all this world seem right,” He began to sing, in a low, gravelly voice. “Only you can make the darkness bright,” The looping footage of the deputy was reflected in his eyes.

_Only you and you alone_

Jacob put down the music box as the music blared over the speakers.

_Can thrill me like you do_

Was it desire? No. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. She was weak. He watched, over and over again, as the deputy tazed one of his men.

_And fill my heart with love for only you_

“I’m going to figure you out, Deputy.” He murmured.

_Only you can make all this change in me_

“Pratt.” The mess of a beta snapped his head up to Jacob, keeping his eyes from meeting the alpha’s. “If I find out you’re keeping any information from me…”

_For it's true, you are my destiny_

“I’m going to make you suffer.”

_When you hold my hand_

Jacob turned his head back to the screen, picking up his knife from the table. He ran his thumb along the edge, an intimate dance. Even the slightest bit of pressure would cut him, but he was confident in his control over his knife.

_I understand the magic that you do_

I shivered. This music was putting me off; I’d never heard a song like it, but the way it played on repeat through outposts freaked me the hell out. My liberation of the Baron Lumber Mills kept me looking for the control room, where I could shut off this god-awful song.

_You're my dream come true_

I ran up the steps, looking for something that looked like a panel of buttons.

_My one and only you_

Jacob watched and smiled. The deputy certainly looked like a rat in a maze.

_Only you can make all this change in me_

“God damn it, where is this coming from!?”

_For it's true, you are my destiny_

He began tuning the radio, leaning back in his chair, spreading his legs apart slightly before opening his lips, pressing down the button on the radio.

_When you hold my hand_

“Deputy Rook.”

_I understand the magic that you do_

With a trembling hand, I raised my radio to a point where I was positive the person on the other end would hear me. “I’ve heard your voice before. You’re Jacob, aren’t you?”

_You're my dream come true_

“Good to know you know my name, Rook. We’ll be seeing each other very soon. Don’t worry, you won’t have to come to me. I’ll find you.”

  
_My one and only you_

The radio signal was cut free, and the music came to a halt. A man hobbled out of what I could only assume was the control room and his knees buckled. I rushed to his side to support him and he groaned. “Man. I was cooped up in that cage for days.”

I helped him over to the railing, where he could lean back and support himself. He had mocha skin. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was part of the resistance chapter here. He had a long braid, but only a singular one; it ran down to his midsection and he wore it in the front rather than in the back. He had stunning blue eyes and brown-ish golden hair- dirty blonde? The first thing I noticed about him, overall, however, were the way his eyes were smiling. A smile broke out on my lips and he snapped his fingers in front of my face.

“Hey. You’re the deputy, right? The one they’re all going on about? One who saved my ass?”

“Yeah.”

He licked his lips. “After I get some water, I’m rolling with you. Name’s Zig, by the way. Although I can’t imagine babysitting tied up cultists is a fun job, nobody can just let them go- and I kinda want an excuse to finally get out of this fucking lumber mill. Used to work here before… you know. Cultists took over.”

I frowned. “You do know that I don’t carry lethal weapons with me, right?” My eyes moved to the gun on his hip and his seemed to follow.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong- only reason I’m carrying this is because someone handed it to me. I’m not really a violent type of guy and if I’m honest, I can respect the kind of way you’re going about things!” He laughed, and so did I. Realizing that, my face turned a shade of red. I didn’t even realize that all of a sudden I somewhat got tongue tied- momentarily.

“Yeah…. Yeah. Yeah.”

“You okay?”

I shook my head slightly. “Yep! I’m fine. Just fine.” Of course, I wasn’t so sure I’d be fine. I’ve touched too many men recently. Way too many. As I drew away from him, I backed up a little. “You should get cleaned up. You know. Because you kind of stink.”

He looked appalled. “And to think I thought all women liked the smell of a grungy man.”

“It’s a long shot, Zig.”

As he walked away, I tried to control my shaking hands. My mother’s teachings were being violated. Ignored. And I had been disobeying her for too long. I walked into the shed, of which there was a small ground tap. Looking around for materials, I swallowed fear as rather than soap, I found a bottle marked with a word I never thought I’d see again.

I scrubbed my arms and my hands and anywhere that had been touched in the past five days raw. Over and over again until it was raw and pinpricks of tears threatened the corners of my eyes. It wasn’t enough and I was feeling sick to my stomach. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, it all feels wrong.

I looked at the bottle of bleach with a heavy heart. Was bleach truly the only way I could cleanse my sins? Remove the touch of a man from my flesh? “Mother, please.” I whimpered, hands shaking. “Don’t make me.”

But nobody was there, and nobody was making me. It was an echo of a memory, one that haunted me so deeply that it was doubtful I’d ever be in control of my actions when captured by it again.

 

**~**

 

“What’s up with the bandages?” Zig asked, sitting by the campfire. We had taken a few more outposts together- we worked well together. I can tell he had been curious the entire time, but just now really wanted to ask about them.

“Oh, nothing.” I lied. “Just makes it easier to hold a weapon.” But underneath, my skin would sting aggressively, and the memory of what I did would be a permanent mark on my soul. The scars from then were gone, but new welts and burns would replace the old. For now, however, I had a mission. A purpose. I couldn’t lose it and relapse into my mother’s way of thinking. I had to stop. I just didn’t know how. After years and years of having something shoved into my head, it was impossible to get it out, no matter how much I wanted it to be gone.

I leaned back against the tree stump, wrapping the blankets around me. It was only around seven o’clock, so before we took our next outpost we were waiting until nighttime crossed. It was best to take the bigger ones under the cover of darkness. Harder to be spotted, and when all we were doing was using stealth, darkness was our best friend.

“Hey, Deputy.” Zig asked, leaning against the other side of the tree-stump and pulling up the tarp he was using as a makeshift blanket.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget me if I don’t make it, alright?”  
“Zig, you’re going to be fine. Neither of us has died yet.”

A few moments passed.

“I suppose you’re right.”

I hoped I was right.


	5. iv - The Man In The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob's arc, act 1, begins. 
> 
> Also, as for the lyrics- I know it's been done once already, but I swear that it'll only happen around Jacob & that it's for tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it's kicking off, divulging from the main game! Enjoy, just as much as I did writing it!

Zig and I had been a (nearly) unstoppable team. Save for taking one arrow to the shoulder, we seemed to be a fairly good match. We were hanging around our little camp overlooking the next outpost target; we had slept for about two hours. It seemed like restlessness was something I was growing into, although I always felt tired I could never find the time- or the patience- to sleep until I felt fully rested. 

That creepy song came on the radio. Only You. As I leaned a little closer to the fire, I looked up at Zig, who was putting a few more branches into it. “Can you switch the radio station?”

He looked down at me, chuckling. “I don’t think so, Rook. This song-- it’s great. Just because Jacob plays it around his outposts doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy it.”

“But that’s the point. Jacob plays it. Whenever I hear it, I think of him.”

“Then let’s make a different memory to fill your mind.” He turned to the radio, turning it up- Only You faintly echoed through the woods as he turned back to me, hand outstretched. I raised an eyebrow, as if to say  _ what do you expect me to do now?  _ “Go on, take my hand. I’m not gonna bite you.” As my hand slipped into his and he pulled me upwards, he added, “Yet.” 

“If you bite me, I’ll kick you.”

“I’ve suffered worse.” He nodded to the shoulder an arrow had gotten lodged in earlier while surveying the outpost. He had gotten away and surprisingly enough didn’t raise any alarms- he’d managed to disable all of them. This would be good for us when we descended on it. As he pulled me closer to him, his hand slid to the small of my back, picking up the other as we danced to the melody of Only You.

Zig looked into my eyes. The music was soft. If there was ever a moment in my life that I’d say was perfect, it was now.

_ Only you can make all this world seem right _

His grip was firm, and this was the first time I’d ever danced with a boy. It was as romantic as you’d expect- in the woods, filled with cultists, bliss, predators and only god knew what else. “You know, there’s supposed to be a sasquatch in these woods,” Zig said, seemingly reading my mind.

_ Only you can make the darkness bright _

“Are you trying to scare me, Zig?” The flames lit his face aglow and I was taken in by it. He was a handsome guy, along with being sweet and funny. My heart beat just a little bit faster, face flushing. 

_ Only you and you alone _

“Well, you could always hold me closer if you feel scared.” Zig joked, but I actually considered his offer. I didn’t think he’d mind, so I lingered a bit closer than I would, resting my head on his chest. “Didn’t think you’d take it,” He sounded genuinely taken aback. 

_ Can thrill me like you do _

“What, you make an offer and expect me not to take it?” 

He chuckled again. I could feel his throat hum. “No, it’s not that. You’re just, you know, super conservative. You kinda draw back whenever I try to touch you and I’ve seen you full on trip over something to avoid touching people.” I drew back and Zig could see the expression on my face. “No, I wasn’t-”

_ And fill my heart with love for only you _

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I’m not trying to make fun of you, Rook.”

_ Only you can make all this change in me _

His hand began to slide out of my grasp and I clutched it tightly. “I know.” I took a step closer, trying to reignite the romantic mood. It would just be better to forget and move on and Zig seemed to understand what I was trying to do. “Thanks for not asking.”

_ For it's true, you are my destiny _

“For a girl like you, Rook? I’d ask as little questions as possible.” I stifled a laugh. “Oh, you’re laughing at me, now?” Shaking my head, we seemed to settle back into the pattern of slow dancing. He was comfortable and he made me feel comfortable.

_ When you hold my hand _

“Pretty sure that statement doesn’t make sense.”

_ I understand the magic that you do _

“Well, shit, Rook. Nothing makes sense in this crazy world we’re in.”

_ You're my dream come true _

“Amen to that.”

_ My one and only you _

If either of them had been more aware of their surroundings, perhaps they’d see a silhouette approaching from the back of their encampment. His boots were filled with grime, jeans distressed from overuse. Neither of them heard a  _ click. _ As he approached the warm fire, the lick of flames heated his face, exposing the color of his hair and the expression he was wearing. He continued to watch the two, who were so engrossed in one another they seemingly forgot their place.

_ Only you can make all this change in me _

As I danced with Zig, he spun me around. “So, are you not thinking of Jacob anymore when you hear this song?”

_ For it's true, you are my destiny _

The figure across the fire stalked around it, hands behind his back as he studied the faces of the two. His eyes locked on the woman’s face, seemingly waiting for the response just as eagerly as the man dancing with her. 

_ When you hold my hand _

“I think that our little test was successful, because… he’s not the first thing that comes to mind.” The stranger was quiet. That would change.

_ I understand the magic that you do _

As the man approached from behind, Zig finally looked up- it was as if he had seen a ghost. With a  _ crack,  _ I slammed into the ground and I could hear the sounds of a struggle. I was completely unaware and my head was spinning, sight blurred- was this the third concussion? 

_ You're my dream come true _

Zig tried his hardest to tackle Jacob Seed to the ground, but was overtaken. He couldn’t win against the man, who had most definitely never quit a day of exercise since being removed from duty. As he was dropped to the floor, Jacob mounted him, wrapping his hands around Zig’s throat. His face scrunched up as he put all of his strength into subduing the young man, a vein popping on his forehead as he exerted great effort. This one was a fighter, even if he didn’t take up a gun- took him long enough to finally pass out cold. 

_ My one and only you _

Jacob turned to the radio, picking it up. In slow, exaggerated motions, he turned the dial down, lowering the sound to a softer pitch. “Only a moron lets their guard down in enemy territory, even for a moment.” As he placed the radio down, he knelt down by the deputy. “I told you I was coming for you.”

_ One and only you _

And I swore I saw the smile of my attacker, despite my brain being jumbled by the hit from the back.

  
**~** **  
  
**

  
There was more pain. I wondered what I had done to deserve this pain, because all I could recall was dancing with Zig. Zig. Zig! As I shot up, I placed a hand on the back of my head and groaned. I felt like shit. “You’ve been out for a while, Deputy.”

My blood turned cold as my head moved to the source of the voice. The first thing I saw was Pratt, at the bars- the bars? The bars of a cage. Oh my god. Moving my eyes to the left a little and I saw him. Combat boots. My eyes wandered up Jacob Seed’s form, taking in the sight of him. His jeans were dirty, dusty- covered. Maybe he spent a lot of time outside. His shirt. There were little holes at the bottom, easily mended, but something told me Jacob Seed didn’t give a fuck whether or not there were holes in his clothes. “Shouldn’t have come for me, Deputy.” 

“Stop talking, Pratt.” Jacob’s voice wasn’t exactly inviting. His beard was rugged, tangled- red. Like fire. His appearance left much to be desired in terms of cleanliness and I wasn’t sure what the hell was up with his arms, but painful looking rashes and blisters covered the surface of them.

“Should’ve run.” He hissed.

Jacob planted his boot in the side of Pratt’s ribs, causing the poor man to slide across the room with the level of force he’d used to kick him. “I said it once. I won’t say it again. The next time, you lose a body part.” In Jacob’s hand was an apple. He brought it up to his lips and took a bite. The juices ran down the side of his mouth, which he wiped away with the back of his hand before dragging a stool over and planting his ass on it in a relaxed kind of way. Leaning forward and using his knees as support for his elbow, I realized how hungry I actually was- the apple, despite having a bite out of it, was looking  _ good.  _ My stomach growled and my face flushed. “Hungry, are you?” 

I shook my head yes.

“The world is weak. Soft,” He rose the apple to eye-level, examining it closely before his eyes flicked back over to me. “We have forgotten what it is to be strong. You know, our heroes used to be gods. And now, our heroes are godless. Weak, feeble, diseased,” He gestured to me and I was sure I wasn’t at least one of those things. “We let the weak…” In his pause, he dug his dirty fingers into the flesh of the apple, its sweet, succulent juices dripping to the floor. “Dictate to the powerful and then we are shocked to find ourselves adrift.” He sniffled, adjusting his collar slightly and shifting in his seat before he gestured to something behind him. The pictures moved every few second, a  _ click, click, click  _ sound that I hadn’t bothered to notice because I was too busy trying not to piss myself. “But history knows the value of  _ sacrifice. _ ” Wolves. The slideshow was full of wolves, tearing into meat and corpses of venison. 

My hands shot up to the bars of the cage, eyes searching for a way out in frantic, jerky movements. All Jacob did was smile. “Culling the herd, so that it stays strong. Over and over, the lives of the many have outweighed the lives of the few. This is how we survived,” He said, like a college professor giving a matter-of-factly lecture, “And we’ve forgotten… and now, the bill has come due.” He inched closer to the cage, studying my face quietly. The quiet lasted for only a moment. “Now, the Collapse is upon us, and this time the lives of the few outweigh the lives of the many.” He was now so close I could smell him- he smelled like blood. The forest. Earthy. Grungy. He stank of the smell of a man. It was the only way I could describe it- a natural, musky odor that filled my nose and made me want to gag. “When a nation that’s never known desperation or hunger descends into madness, we’ll be ready.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, finally breaking my own silence. He stared me down for a moment like I was insane before backing up, acting like he’d never heard what I asked- ignoring me. 

“We will cull the herd. We will do what needs to be done.” His expression was grim as he reached over to the table on the side and picked up what looked to be a music box, twisting the key again and again, earning a sharp sigh from Pratt. I stared at his hands in despair- that couldn’t mean well for me. As he opened the music box, a distorted version of ‘Only You’ came into my mind and I screamed, the cage rattling as my back hit the far end. 

“Turn it off! Turn it off!” I screamed desperately, clawing at my ears as I begged him to make it stop. “Please! Please!!” 

As my vision faded, the hallucinations began. I was in a room, all on my own. Before me laid a gun.  _ Pick it up.  _ No.  _ Pick it up.  _ No!  _ PICK IT UP.  _ NO!

His voice was in my head, in my brain and it wasn’t leaving me alone. He wanted me to pick up that gun for some reason. He wanted me to feel the metal in my hands, to know that even someone as weak as me had the ability to kill someone- to become strong- but I couldn’t. I refused.

And I cowered in the corner for what felt like weeks. Years. Eternities. 

 

**~**

 

Jacob was the kind of man who liked to come in and  _ stare  _ at you. It didn’t matter if it was minutes, hours or days- he was the type who could really stare. He didn’t get bored. He didn’t get tired. He was like a fucking monster. And that music box-- we did this several times a day and it felt like I was trapped in limbo forever.

“I have no idea what my brother sees in you, Deputy.” He said, after what felt like eons of silence. “I want to know.” He pointed the tip of the knife at me, shaking it a little before taking an apple into his hands. He had a bowl of them on the table and whenever he wasn’t doing anything important, he reached in and took one. He knew I was hungry. He never offered, not one- he enjoyed each and every one, right in front of me, one by one, hour after hour. 

I was getting sick of even looking at them, but him, he had the patience of a fucking robot. He could do  _ anything,  _ anytime, without ever getting bored. Or maybe he was. Maybe he was just forcing himself through this gruelling process. 

Jacob’s head tilted upwards as he looked down on me. I wasn’t sure who he was, exactly, other than being one of the Seeds. He seemed to be prideful. “You are… weak.” He needed five days in hell to assess that? “Now, I want you to answer a question for me. What happens next will depend on your answer.” He waited for a response. Getting none, he took my silence as a yes. “Why should you replace someone who is stronger than you? Why does someone who has earned nothing be given everything?” 

For the first time, Jacob’s hand slipped through the cage bars, and I felt his fingers brush against my chin, pulling me closer. They were rough, calloused. He tilted my head upwards so I was looking straight in his eyes- unable to break my gaze away. I was trapped, unable to escape, locked away in a cage in what was clearly his office. The moments he wasn’t looking at me, he covered my cage with a blanket after drugging me. I knew nothing other than the confines of the cage. “I am going to make you into someone worthy. Someone who I can understand would have the attention of Joseph.”

I was frightened. Why would I have Joseph’s attention? It made no sense. I was just a junior deputy- one that had escaped him, yes, but I was in captivity now. What on earth could he want from me that he didn’t already have? 

Letting go of me, Jacob pulled back. I knew he was waiting for an answer to his previous question, but I wasn’t sure. If I told him what he wanted to hear- that I shouldn’t be given everything if I haven’t earned it- I had a dreadful feeling that I would regret it. “I… I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why you’re doing this. I don’t know why Joseph wants me, I don’t know where Zig is and I’m trapped in a god-damned cage!”

“Watch your language.”

I ignored his warning and kept going. “I am not here because I want to be. It doesn’t matter if you think I’m worthy or not, because I  _ don’t want to be,  _ and you can’t keep me here! This is illegal!” 

“Joseph is wrong about you, Deputy.” He stood from the chair he was sitting on, looking down at me with narrow eyes. “You’re pathetic. There’s nothing any of us can gain from having you around.” He placed the apple he had been holding the entire time on the table. “If it were up to me, I’d have killed you by now. But it’s not. So remember, the only reason you’re alive is because you have the grace of the Father. Don’t forget to count your blessings tonight- you’re going to need them tomorrow.”

With that, Jacob walked out of the room. He didn’t even bother putting the sheet on the cage. We both knew I didn’t need it.

He believed I was pathetic, and somehow, that was enough to make me believe it, too.

~

 

Jacob hadn’t visited for a few hours when he came back, which was unusual. He didn’t sit and stare. He didn’t pay me any mind, no matter what kind of sound I made nor what complaint I made about how small the cage was. He completely ignored me, and I had no idea why- up until he called me pathetic, he would sit and study me for hours. Now, I was just like an old toy.

“Where’s Zig?” My hands wrapped around the bars of his prison.

“You’re either very foolish, very brave, or very stupid.” He said, his head hanging low as he sighed and shoved himself off the table before heading toward me. His boots made an intimidating clomping sound, where he dragged a stool to yet again, sit before me. “You’ve been acting out. What, you want some attention? Are you lonely?” I could tell he was mocking me- his voice wasn’t his normal tone- something more… sarcastic. But, he waited for my response, patiently. As if it was a completely normal conversation.

“I just--”

“You’re just pathetic.” He finished for me, not even letting me speak. “You’re pathetic, Rook. You should be worrying about yourself right now and what I’m preparing for you, not about Zig. You should be trying to escape, not living large in the confines of a cage in the corner of my room. What are you, Rook? Because you don’t seem like you have  _ any  _ instinct or will to survive.” 

He paused, the corner of his mouth tugging into a sinister smile.

“You don’t feel threatened.” He paused. “We need to change that, Rook. Just because you’re in captivity doesn’t mean the danger is over. Up until now, you’ve been using non-lethal force.” As he unlocked the cage, I trembled- he reached in, grabbing me by the hair, pulling me up- I was yanked across the room by my hair, a mess. I hadn’t eaten in days and I was feeling parched as hell. The pain of how roughly he handled me was getting to me quickly. 

As we kept descending, I had no idea where we were nor where we were going, but a sinking feeling sparked in my heart very quickly. I felt myself hit the ground, and before I knew it, I was surrounded by unwashed men and women- blinking, staring, their eyes wide open and heads cocked. I scrambled backward, only to find myself hitting the front of Jacob’s legs. Looking upward, it was clear he was annoyed- as clear as day, painted on his face for all to see. He drew back one of his feet and slammed it into my shoulder, causing me to fly forward and hit the ground face-first, hard. He planted a boot to the side of my head and shoved my face in the dirt, pressing harder and harder- “It’s time to cull the weak.”

Roars of approval rang out amongst the cultists. I couldn’t see what was going on but I could hear footsteps. I could feel Jacob’s weight on me, pushing me down, holding me there. The grime underneath his boot was being rubbed into my cheek and I could do nothing but sit there and take it. 

I wasn’t prepared for what came next.

**~**

Rook didn’t need to take up arms for Jacob to train her properly. She just needed to use her fists. “Any means necessary. Winner lives for the next culling. Loser dies.” As he took a step back, removing his boot from her face, he felt a rush of excitement. Rook was rather different than what he was used to. Hell, even that Faith girl was a fighter- he didn’t really give a shit about which brainwashed one he was talking about, they were all the same, really, just as replaceable as the last- but  _ Rook.  _ She was weak. Dependent on that guy, Zig. Dependent on whoever she could get her hands on. A  _ leech.  _ She was weak. She needed someone- someone stronger than her- to control her. To  _ lead  _ her. Then she could become strong. 

Rowdy Americans with a loud mouth and a rude disposition who told him to go fuck himself were a dime a dozen. There were too many of those.  _ Polite. Timid,  _ were the words Pratt used to describe Rook and frankly, he was right. For fuck’s sake, she  _ tazed  _ people when they tried to kill her. 

Jacob had always wondered what it would be like to break someone. To watch their mental state degrade. She was normal. Probably a virgin. If he asked, she’d probably blush so red she’d pop a vein. This kind of person was rare around these parts nowadays. 

Jacob watched the deputy pick herself up. “Why did you become a cop?” Ignored. She was quiet, too. Not too loud. Not too annoying. In the four days he spent staring at her, if anything popped about the girl, it was the fact she didn’t really speak unless spoken to. Obedience was something he liked, very, very much. She had the makings of an obedient woman. 

Still, she’d be useless if she couldn’t handle herself in a fist fight. That frail frame would prove to hurt her more than it’d help. She never saw the punch coming- mostly because she was facing the wrong way because Jacob was purposefully distracting her- and she got socked in the face by the man desperate to ‘pass’ the culling. He’d already been marked for death, so he didn’t have much to lose. 

As she battled it out with the man, Jacob wondered what went through her head. Was she scared? Did she react timidly? Is she curling up in a distant part of her mind and hoping it’ll all be over? 

She landed a square punch on the man’s jaw. So, she wasn’t against violence or causing people pain. “Good.” He called, looking to reinforce her with positive feedback. She was losing ground, but gaining hits- both were equally important but they could focus on one for now. But he could work with obedience. A terrible soldier disobeyed orders and acted out of turn. But a good soldier knows how to follow orders, how to listen to the leader- and if someone disobeyed him, then he would make sure that the person who did got one verbal warning, one physical warning, and then they were dead. He promoted a certain quality of life here- get it right, get it right the first time, and obey.  **Obey.** The word sent shivers down his spine. 

This is his purpose. To control his men. To follow Joseph’s orders. 

She was losing more ground by the minute, but he could not intervene. She needed to learn how to clean her own messes. Him intervening now would do nothing for her. He watched the weak tear into the weaker, Rook struggling to fight back- she had lost ground and now the only thing to her back were his men, shoving her back into the circle. She lost her footing, crashing to the ground and getting a kick to the face as the result. 

He took in air, breathing it out in the form of a slow, overdrawn sigh. Although Jacob did not care,  _ Joseph  _ did, and Joseph’s orders were absolute. The men didn’t know of the girl’s status yet, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep it from them a little longer. She’d get a big head if they started revering her in the way Joseph was. 

The man she was fighting had a sallow face and it was clear he wouldn’t last much longer with Jacob’s treatments. However, somehow the deputy was  _ still  _ losing. It was miraculous- she could sneak about, taze people around corners with her friends- but when in an actual fistfight, she couldn’t handle anything. 

With another punch, the Deputy hit the floor, hard. After a few moments, she made no move to get up again. So, she got knocked out. He watched as the weak man stalked toward his prey, raising his foot, ready to bring it down on Rook’s neck. Jacob considered his options. Well, he only had one, really. He had to intervene, which would make  _ him  _ look bad in front of his men, because he’d never intervened in a fight before. He just let nature run its course. That was the epitome of what he was doing here, but, but--  _ she  _ got to be an exception because of the voices in his brother’s head. 

He didn’t agree with that. Still, Jacob smoothly walked forward, his fist smashing into the man’s neck. As he choked on his disturbed air canal, Jacob flipped him and did what the man had planned to do with Rook, just much, much harder. The crack made the crowd go silent. One could hear a pin drop if they strained their ears enough. 

Then, the murmurs began. Jacob had no reason to explain himself to his men. They’d learn to deal with it the way it was. He picked Rook up, slinging her over his shoulder as he had the first time, and began to carry her not to her cage, but to a truck. He dropped her in the passenger seat, getting in the driver’s seat, and adjusted his mirror.

Rook leaned as the car started, her head falling onto his shoulder.

Jacob shoved the deputy to the side, only to have her fall back. Jacob shoved her again. A repeat of what happened last time. Finally, he shoved her with all of the strength in his arm and heard a  _ crack-  _ she’d feel that in the morning. Her head rested against the door of the truck and finally she wouldn’t be bothering him anymore.

The roads were bumpy and shaky and the truck bounced on each small dip in the road. He turned off on a hidden road, riding it deep into the mountains before coming to a stop. The sun was setting and they had been driving for at least an hour. He hadn’t really bothered to keep track- time passed fast with how old he was. He opened the truck, only for the deputy to fall out as he stepped back, hitting the floor in a rather unladylike manner- but what kind of shit did he give about whether she looked ladylike or not? 

He picked her up again, trekking up a well-worn path. This is where he went to get away from it all. The first thing he did was ask John to help him in getting a cabin in the woods when his brothers came for him. A place that was his. It was actually pretty fancy- despite his protests, John made it large. Said that if this was gonna be a Seed family meeting place, it needed to have the Seed family touch. Even had its own little bunker down below. No driveway, though- didn’t need one. That, at least, was something John let him decide. If it had been Jacob’s money, Jacob would’ve done what he wanted. But, it was a gift. And who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? 

As he descended the stone steps in the back overlooking the little lake behind the house, he met with a sturdy metal door. His fingers smoothly tapped across the keypad, the light above the door went green and a loud  _ beep  _ sound filled his ears momentarily. 

The last thing he needed was her escaping during the family dinner. Not that he thought she could, but if you give someone an inch, they’ll take a mile. It was only for tonight, until the Seeds left tomorrow morning. 

As he shut the door, he heard the tell-tale click of the lock. These Sundays were done in rotation, Jacob-Faith-John-Joseph. Now would probably also be a good time to tell his siblings that he’d captured the deputy. 


	6. v - Sunday Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **High Trauma Chapter**
> 
> This chapter is almost entirely in third person perspective, following Jacob. Each Seed Sunday Family Dinner will be in the perspective of the Seed hosting it! Welcome to Jacob’s mind when not on duty.
> 
> ***The cult follows the laws of God, and as much as I wish it not to be so, the bible says homosexuality is a sin and you know those crazy fucking cultish christians who try to smack any girl trying to ‘seduce their daughter with the devil’s dance’ with a broom-- there’s a story here, and I’m pretty sure it just told itself, but for reasons pertaining to what would make sense--- I’d say that the Heralds aren’t exactly homophobes, hell, some are definitely experimenting or dabbling- looking at you, John,- It’s a ‘sin’ that John would cleanse. Faith wouldn’t appreciate that, John!***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me quite a bit to write and is, I believe, ten pages in total. Whew. There's one part in this chapter that I didn't really like, that I may rewrite later- guess which part? Well, not quite rewrite- extend. Anyways, tell me how you like it! I'd love to hear some feedback.

Jacob was a man of many talents. Despite his harsh appearance and gruff but smooth voice, Jacob could cook. All of his siblings could, they just only did it when necessary- but Jacob was, by far, the best cook out of all of them. Faith burnt anything she cooked, so Jacob kept refusing to eat it much to Joseph’s distaste. He really just scrunched up his face and inhaled that crap. 

John really smoked and grilled  _ everything.  _ It didn’t matter what the fuck it was, he’d smoke it. Hell, John would probably even grill a shoe and eat it if he was affected by Bliss enough. The man was an outdoor chef, not that Jacob disliked that, it was only ever that John’s skills were related to the barbecue and that he couldn’t work a stove even if he tried. 

Joseph was better at baking, to say the least. The man was a wizard when it came to sweet treats and he baked them  _ often.  _ Really. Joseph’s free time was filled with making  _ muffins.  _ Although Jacob could probably make a good muffin if he tried, he didn’t really see baking as a manly kind of thing so he sort of avoided it. 

As he began to peel a potato, he stopped mid-potato peeling. Maybe the reason why Joseph was the first out of all of them to get a wife was because he knew how to bake. Although, John was the type to go after anything with a hole (Nobody should say that to his face) so any kind of serious relationship was off the table with his constant adultery. Faith was… Faith. There wasn’t really another way to explain it- she was desperate for attention, most especially the Father’s, and Jacob let out a small laugh as he thought to himself,  _ as if that would ever happen.  _

Three potatoes peeled already in the course of a minute. He might be getting faster. He’d never timed himself, but maybe he should’ve. Of course, Jacob could never find the right woman- he didn’t know why. Well, maybe he wasn’t exactly approachable at a bar- he could try a one night stand, but he hadn’t had sex in  _ ages.  _ And the cult’s no-fornication rule loomed above him. John had fucked that law twice over. Metaphorically and literally. Another thing, Jacob wasn’t a ladies man. The last woman he’d had an intimate relationship with left him for being too controlling. That was many, many years ago. 

As he glanced up at the mirror above the sink in the kitchen, something John had put there, he noted that he wasn’t exactly  _ John.  _ The man had the looks and the tongue for women, but he’d probably fuck a man if it came to it. Jacob? Well, Jacob never had any need for men- or for women, for that matter- but the bible had said homosexuality was a sin, therefore it was a sin. The Project abided strictly by the rules of God and that sin was supposedly forgivable- John took care of the homosexuals, so Jacob wouldn’t be surprised if he’d dabbled. There were a few reformed ones and from what Jacob had heard, the resistance had a growing amount of gays. Most likely because if they were caught, they were forced straight. 

Jacob looked at the pot of potatoes. He was going to make scallops, because they were simple and cheesy and he’d gotten to his cabin late- his siblings would be here any minute now and he’d break the news about Rook, keeping quiet the fact she was basically in the basement right now. He still had to work her over.

As the door swung open, he knew from the loud sounds of stomping it was John- he came into the kitchen, arms spread wide, that telltale smile stretched across his face. “Brother Jacob! It’s wonderful to see you.” As he moved across the wooden floor, Jacob looked down at his feet. He was still wearing his shoes. John, in response, looked down at Jacob’s dirty black socks with his big toe sticking out, only to come back up and raise an eyebrow. “Is there really much of a difference?” Rude, but expected.

“John, take off your shoes.” 

John went rigid for a moment. “Yes, Joseph.” He rushed back to the entrance, struggling to peel off his rather expensive, tight footwear. 

The middle brother came in, as graceful as ever, a rather content look on his face as he took in the mountain aroma of the cabin. He removed his telltale glasses, folding them and sliding them into his front pocket. “My brother.” He nodded at Jacob, surveying the area with curious eyes, looking for changes since he’d last been here. He wouldn’t find much- the area was kept clean. Not by Jacob, of course, but by the Father’s children who John gave a specific purpose- keeping the places he deemed as sanctuaries clean. Other than them, Jacob prohibited anyone who was not a Herald access when Joseph was here. Jacob had to remind Joseph that while he’d love to have four hundred people in his house, that was what the future plans for the summer potlucks were- a way to get the members of the Project together. 

Joseph sauntered across the room while John bounded up the stairs like a ball of over energized energy. “Just gonna clean myself up some!” He called. “Jacob, you should consider going next.”

“I’m fine the way I am.” Jacob replied nonchalantly, brushing his brother’s comment off. 

“New flowers.” Joseph pointed to the lilies on the table. Jacob hadn’t really noticed, and he was here way more than Joseph was. His younger brother felt the bottom of the table, bringing his fingers over the ridges and cracks. It seemed like something made a  _ crack  _ sound because as Joseph stepped back the entire thing came crashing down as if it was a badly assembled dollar-store table. Water pooled from the broken vase and Jacob gave his brother a hard stare. “I’d say that someone left those flowers because they broke your table.”

Jacob had just  _ watched  _ his brother specifically feel up the table and break it by fiddling with it. 

John took this moment to rush down the stairs with a towel around his waist, causing a loud sigh from Jacob. He was white-knighting it. “What is it? Non-believers?”

“No, just a vase.” Joseph responded. 

“Jacob has a vase? Big brother, what has happened to you? Never did I think I would see the day.” 

“It’s not mine, it was put there by one of your cleaners.”

“Don’t be shy, brother! We can be vase-buddies. I have three back at my place. Good to know you’re getting into vases, because these are exotic- I plan to build my collection-”

“Greed is a sin, John.” 

The atmosphere went somewhat cold as John quieted down. “Right. Sorry, Joseph.” He was quiet. As much as Jacob was the protector of his siblings it wasn’t his job to protect them from each other- he’d let them sort out their own mishaps. He never quite understood why John was scared of Joseph. To Jacob, there was nothing to fear.

**~**

 

Faith had arrived late. “So sorry!” She exclaimed, sitting down at the table next to the Father. 

“Just don’t do it again, Faith. You must have respect for our family if this is going to work.” Joseph began and Faith paled. “We all showed up thirty minutes before you, at the designated time. This is the second time, sister.”

“I had trouble with the resistance on the way over,” Faith said nervously, her eyes moving from one brother to the next.

“Faith. My child. My sister. It’s all right.” The Father brought his palm to the back of her head and touched their foreheads in his normal gesture. “I’m simply asking that you don’t be late again. It’s much more pleasant when we’re all here.” 

Jacob wasn’t liking the direction this was going. This was why he didn’t like Faith. Although she was eager to please and would most likely do anything the Father said, she was a ball of desperation. He didn’t know much about her past and he didn’t care to learn because the next Faith would step into the limelight soon enough. Just a matter of when. 

“So, any news on the escaped deputy?” John asked, taking a bite of his meal. “There’s been no word in Holland Valley. Faith?”

“Nothing in Henbane.” 

They looked to the Father, and he simply rose his eyebrows. “She certainly didn’t crawl back to me.”

“About that,” Jacob said, his forearms resting on the table, “I’ve got the Deputy. Got ‘er yesterday.” He had no moral issue with lying, but he had Joseph’s attention now. The preacher’s eyes were glued to his brother. “Figured I’d take her for a test drive, figure out what kind of person she was.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“Thought you’d want the information face-to-face.”

“I would have asked you to bring her so she could attend the dinner.”

“She’s not fit to attend a dinner, so I left her at my compound.”

Joseph paused. “What did you do?”

“You told me to use any means necessary. I’ve done what was required.” ****  
  


**~**  


 

I was beginning to get tired of waking up to aching pain, but it seemed like it was becoming a trend- one that I doubted was going to end soon. Sitting up, the throb of my head seemed to block out any other noise. Cogs began turning in my mind as my hands brushed against the cold concrete of the floor- I was lying in what had to be a very small living room. 

My head swivelled as I tried to make out where I was. Iron beams and the lack of windows in the room told me that one thing was certain- I was underground. In the only hallway, there was a massive door that had a keypad as a lock- I tried all of the combinations I could, but each one ended with  **INCORRECT.** Before long, something else popped up on the screen-  **LOCKDOWN INITIATED. PLEASE OPEN FROM OUTSIDE.** “I’m not outside, dumb door.” I muttered, but figured it wasn’t worth my time to keep trying the door. Heading back into the deeper area of the bunker, I noticed it really was small- definitely not the type of bunker Joseph was intending to keep all of his followers in, for sure. 

As I was wandering through the rooms, something caught my attention-  _ a computer. The internet. Escape. Help.  _ So many words flew through my mind and I was at the desk faster than a flash. It was old, at least early 2001. I hadn’t seen one of these since I was a child. I mean, my father had a few back in the day. As it booted up, I watched the old Windows logo load on the dusty screen. 

The first thing I did was go for the internet- maybe, just maybe **-**

My heart fell. No internet connection. Hell, there wasn’t even anything to connect to. What did the person who owned this bunker even use the computer for? Going through the files, there wasn’t much- it was basically unused, save for one folder on the desktop. Bringing it up, there were several video files- four. 

It was too late for feeling bad for sneaking about, but if they were gonna keep me trapped here, I’d pry. Clicking twice on one, a black screen popped up and I could hear shuffling. It wasn’t long before the camera was adjusted properly, and there I saw Jacob- sitting in the chair I was sitting in now- looking sullen. I had never seen an expression like that on his face, because he’d only ever been neutral. 

It took him a moment before he started speaking. “I’m… not a good man. I know that. I’m not the type of man that anyone, except for my family, could care for.” So, he knew what he was doing was wrong? Then why was he doing it? “When John and Joseph came for me in the homeless shelter- it was like I had been given a second chance. It was like God had answered my prayers. I don’t know if my brother really hears the voice of God, Helen, but- I will not abandon them again. Not like you abandoned us.” Helen? Who was Helen? His voice was filled with contempt, yet longing and I wondered- perhaps that was his lover? But, hearing this, it made Jacob Seed feel slightly more human. He’d been homeless.

I quickly moved to the second video, intaking more knowledge about Jacob- stuff he meant to send to this ‘Helen’ woman. “The world is a fucked up place, you know. It’s kill or be killed, eat or be eaten- but maybe death would be better than this.” 

The emotion in his voice almost led me to cry.

Another video.

“Merry christmas, Helen. Joseph- he’s not quite over his wife yet. Honestly, I shouldn’t be making these videos anymore- they’re not good for me. Although Joseph has both us and his flock, he’s lonely. He has good self-control and restraint, something that’s respectable in a man- for the most part, he’s polite and kind. I can see why people follow him, and I think you’d smile. He’s a man of God.” 

The videos were short, but hypnotising. There was only one left to see, and I watched it eagerly, drinking in what I could.

“I’m not going to make these anymore, Helen. I’m going to forget you, and I’m never going to think of you again. Thinking won’t bring you back, make you good. You were always terrible. Isn’t healthy to hold onto you anymore, and I’ve gotta be a certain kind of man for the Project. You can’t get in my way anymore. Goodbye, Helen.” 

The difference between the first three videos and the fourth was massive. In the fourth, Jacob was exactly the man she had been dealing with. Cold, methodical. As if he’s simply running through the motions rather than living. The man talked for five minutes each video, random info, talking about him and his brothers- never once mentioning Faith. He just…  _ talked.  _ That was new. Jacob didn’t really talk much. 

What had happened to make him so cold? Just in the second video, he seemed pitiable. Relatable. 

Time passed as I thought about it, finally making my way to the bathroom to hopefully take a shower after a week of not being allowed to. As I approached the mirror, I jumped back in surprise as I saw that I looked like an absolute monster,  purple, splotchy bruises covering my face, a busted lip and a bloodied nose. I was sporting a black eye and I couldn’t really recall how I got  _ that  _ one and I finally understood why I ache all over. Peeling my clothes off of me, I took a look at myself- naked, in the mirror- only to find more bruises scattered across my body. 

“It looks like someone put me through a giant blender with chunks of concrete instead of blades.”

**~**

For some reason, Jacob felt a little younger tonight. Maybe it was because while his brothers and adopted sister Faith were sleeping in their guest rooms, he was sneaking out of his window. He gently pried it open, sliding it up before crawling out onto the roof and sliding it down to close it. The roof creaked under his weight and he made sure to shift weight onto one leg rather than keep it on both. It was more noisy than he’d have liked, and as he moved past John’s bedroom, he ducked down. His brother was on the radio.

“No- I don’t  _ want  _ that. I told you exactly how to prepare it, our guest is coming next weekend and we need this to be perfect.” He seemed rather distressed. “Okay, but I  _ need  _ you to run the simulations. And? Just give them more Bliss! Okay, Pauline, I understand that you’re not here to do menial work but this is your  _ test from God, and everyone has to do their part.  _ Do you not understand me, Pauline? The Lord did not get an entire book written about him by  _ sitting on his ass! _ ” Oh, John. He had a way with words. Jacob didn’t bother with words. “Pauline, I swear to our Father that all of this will make sense soon enough. It is our Father’s  _ will  _ that we host the Virgin Mary. What? Why didn’t I just say so? How does it change anything that it’s the Father’s will and not mine? Pauline! Pauline? Did you just hang up on me? Pauline, you’d better have not hung up on me-”

Jacob stared down his brother from the window like a creepy sentinel sasquatch. Pauline could most definitely hear John, seeing as all phones were cut- didn’t matter if it was mobile or landline. John was using a handheld radio. 

Moving past John’s room, tired of watching him trying to get Pauline back on the line by any means necessary including a bevy of threats, he stumbled across Faith. She wasn’t awake, but she was rather on her knees, praying at her bed. Jacob could neither hear her mumbles nor was he interested. 

Moving to the Father’s room, he was nearly at his goal. “Enjoying the night air, brother?” The head poking out of the room indeed belonged to Joseph- who was staring him down with rather innocuous eyes. 

“Yep. Just making sure the perimeter is secured.”

“Brother, this isn’t Iraq.”

“But there’s still a war to fight.” 

Taking that as an acceptable answer, Joseph backed from the window, sliding it partially down. “Be sure not to stay out too late, brother.” Jacob wondered if the ‘voices’ had told Joseph about Jacob- or perhaps about the Deputy- without a doubt, Joseph had the patience to wait for the Deputy even if he knew she was in the vicinity. He heard the click of the window and as he shuffled by, he looked through the window- Joseph had turned off his light, shirtless- he was wearing only plaid red pajama pants. Jacob watched his brother crawl into bed, before moving on. He had plans for tonight. 

**~**

I turned the tap, looking up to feel a cascade of water rain down on my skin, gently washing away dirt and dried blood. Although eating had been one of my first priorities, the cupboard had a lock- I couldn’t access any of the food and as far as I saw there was no fridge. My hands gently moved across my body, scrubbing the filth with the only method I had, over my breasts, my ass, every part of my body and I swore I would moan. To have sat around in a cage, sweltering hot, covered in body sweat and my own filth- Jacob didn’t let me out to go to the bathroom, but he gave me a spot in the corner- well, sitting in that disgusting pile of stench was not something I considered fun. 

I thought about what I had seen, what I knew about the bunker so far. One locked door, one bedroom, one bathroom, one living room, one kitchen, one hallway. It was meant for one. That one being Jacob, from what I’ve gathered. The water overtook all of my senses, warm and welcoming, thundering in my ears.

The water stopped coming down, only dripped, and I opened my eyes. I hadn’t turned the tap off, but when I careened my head up I gasped, screaming, covering my body. “I didn’t say you could use my shower.” His voice was gruff and his appearance was unexpected and he was getting soaked in his clothes- I screamed at him, called him all sorts of names and he picked me up- slinging me over his shoulder, his hand planted firmly on my bare ass as he took me out of the bathroom. I clung to the sides, to whatever I could grab but eventually he got sick of that and changed the way he was picking me up, putting one arm under my legs and using the other to support my back as a kicked and clawed- the man was impenetrable and impossible. As he dropped me on his bed, I scrambled backward.

“What the hell are you doing, walking in on a naked woman like that?!”

“This is my bunker. I can walk wherever I want.” He had a sense of entitlement. Good to know. I covered as much of myself as I could, his eyes straying up my body.

“Do you have no sense of decency? Give me some clothes!” 

“You still react emotionally. You’ve learned nothing. You want clothes?” He held up a fresh pair, before reaching into his back pocket and flipping the lid of a lighter. I watched in horror as he held the flame underneath them- they caught fire rather easily and began to burn as fast as wildfire, before he dropped them and stomped them out but I was sure nothing would remain but ash. “You chose a shower. A shower that you weren’t authorized to take.” 

“You left me here, how was I supposed to know what you wanted me to do?” 

“It’s simple. I want you to be obedient. Wait at the door like a good dog.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Not yet.” He replied, “But you must be hungry.” 

“What about clothes?”

A smile spread across his face. “Dogs have no need for clothes. What a ridiculous idea.” As I continued trying to keep myself covered with my hands and arms, he walked to the doorframe before turning back. “Ten. Nine. Eight.” It took me a moment to realize he was counting down- and from previous run-ins from him, I realized that I probably didn’t want him to get to zero. “Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three.” When he got to three, I decided that when it came to embarrassment or pain, I’d rather be embarrassed. I lumbered toward the door, slightly rushing, slightly not, only to find myself falling forward- my hands broke the fall, but my breasts were fully exposed to the cold air. I struggled to get up, but I could feel Jacob’s dirty boot on my clean back, grains of mud and dirt being rubbed in. “Dogs don’t walk on two feet.”

I could feel my heart almost come to a full stop. “Excuse me?’

“Dogs don’t speak, either. Go on, walk.” I kept my legs closed, my knees drawn closer to my chest and I was sure Jacob was getting an eyeful of my backside. At first glance, he didn’t seem to be a pervert, but this- it wasn’t  _ normal.  _ His voice lowered. “Walk.” This time, it wasn’t an option- it was an absolute order.

I brought my hand forth to crawl slowly on my hands and knees from the bedroom to the kitchen, hearing Jacob take slow steps behind me the entire way. I felt violated in a way that I’ve never felt before- this was the first time a man even saw me naked, let alone exposed as I was. Vulnerable like this. “You’ve been spoiled. Your skin is almost perfect.” I wasn’t sure whether Jacob wanted a response or not, but I wasn’t telling him about my life. “But from what I’ve heard, one call from daddy might mess things up for you. Would you like me to call daddy?” He mocked, and my face flushed red. “You’d better do as I say, Rook, or I’ll  _ call daddy. _ ” Now my embarassment was turning to anger. The entirety of the leading bodies of the Project had overheard my argument with that asshole, Marshal Burke. 

“I’m not-” I yelped as his boot planted firmly on my ass. 

“That yelp sounds more like a dog.” He jeered. “Come on, Bitch. Come here.” He circled around me, patting his knees and urging me to enter the kitchen. I did as he asked and watched as he unlocked the cupboard doors. He pulled out what looked like a bag of something, before taking a red dish out of the higher cupboards. Before long, her waiting paid off as he set the dried dog kibble at her feed in a red dog dish. “Go on, Bitch. Eat up.”

“You can’t expect me to eat this.”

“If you don’t eat this, you don’t eat anything.” My hunger was winning over my common sense. As I picked up the dog dish, Jacob stopped me. “No. you eat it on all fours. I don’t want to see you walking on two feet tonight,” He knelt down, pushing the dish down to the floor with one hand while never breaking eye contact with me. I couldn’t tell if there was any desire in his eyes or not; if there was, he hid it well- but I don’t think I’d be able to imagine it. “And tonight is going to be a very, very long night.”

He seemed to watch intently as I brought my head down to the bowl. He gasped softly as the crunch of the dog food filled the room, dry and disgusting. The odor enough was to make me reel back. “Jacob, please! What would Helen think?!” I begged, finally having enough of going along with him.

“How do you know about her?” His face was unreadable as he stood up. His eyes shot across the hallway, to the computer he left. “You went through my stuff.”

“It was just there!” 

“I don’t appreciate it when someone goes through my stuff.” Despite his seemingly calm words the man was seething and his expression proved that. He grabbed me by my hair, dragging me to the door that was locked- unlocking it quickly- and dragging me down two steps before I felt him yanking my arms up- cold steel locking around my wrists and I was forcefully pulled as he dropped a weight on the other side of the chain. I was suspended in the air, my toes barely touching the ground. I was facing the wall, but I heard a rather thin, stripping sound. The jingle of metal caught my attention and I struggled to spin but his rough, calloused hand was on my hip, keeping me still. “You’ve got to be taught a lesson, Rook. You have to know your place in all of this. The fact that you’re not obedient makes that very clear. You talk back. A soldier doesn’t talk back, Rook. A soldier does as ordered, and when they don’t,” I could hear a jingle. “They are punished.” 

As leather hit my soft, supple skin, I screamed in agony. Again, and again, and again- until it felt like my entire back had been whipped raw. He started up my legs, my ass- over and over again until my throat became raw from screaming. “I’m not going to stop until you stop screaming. Learn. Obedience.” I was sobbing at this point, shoulders shaking, bruises overlaying wounds- the stinging pain. I was sure that there were places where my flesh had been cut from so many whacks. As he turned me around, I screamed when he sunk his long, uncut nails into my bare flesh, pulling me close to him. 

“Please- I’m not trying to be disobedient.” I begged, my voice sounding like metal grinding against metal. 

“You’re still disobedient, Rook.” He came close, so close she could smell him- and it was clear he didn’t often take showers. “You still talk back.”

“I don’t mean to! Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it. I’ll do it!” 

“You can’t give me what I want, Rook.”

“Please, just stop. Just stop.” I sobbed, tears streaking down my face- it felt like my tear ducts were drying up, what with all the crying I had been doing lately. His hands were still planted on my thighs. I could feel him pulling me closer.

As his lips touched mine, I didn’t quite understand what was happening. I tried turning my face away, but his was against mine- I could taste him, his tongue. Bitter. He pulled my legs to either side of him, making my mind spark with unsavory thoughts, a burn in my stomach, a heat that I couldn’t escape no matter how much I pulled away. He was  _ taking  _ me. He wasn’t asking- nor was he going to argue. I could feel his beard bristle against my skin.

He pulled away from my tear-stained, bruised face. The heat and the pain mixed together and I swore my mind was going numb. I couldn’t endure much more of this- no rational, sane human being could. I was a mumbling, begging mess- even I couldn’t comprehend what I was saying anymore. “No, not like this. Not with  _ you. _ ” Jacob spat, pulling away.

As he walked away, he grabbed the door to the room, shutting it behind him and leaving me in pure darkness. 

“No,” I whimpered, “Don’t leave me here.” 

But he didn’t come back and I was too consumed by my pain and fear of the dark to understand what had just happened.


	7. vi - Into The Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to listen to this - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnoK7a4bG3A  
> Andy Grammer - Pushing

Morning. Pain. Pain is something that felt a little more common- a little more natural- in my life now. Every day, I felt pain. I was in some kind of new pain. The welts and blood on my back proved that my life was no longer what I had known it to be, that everything I thought would happen wasn’t possible anymore. I looked blankly down at what I believed to be the floor. I did not feel rested in the slightest, but rather exhausted. I couldn’t keep going like this. I had to escape, or I would die here. It was clear at the moment escape wasn’t possible. 

The door swung open and I was met with blinding light; my arms felt like they would pop out of their sockets if I had to be locked up any longer. As he unlocked my shackles I tried to support myself but my legs had stopped working. I fell forward, into his arms. He tried to steady me, make me walk on my own, but I collapsed to the ground without his assistance. “Weak.” He muttered, before picking me up. I had no strength to fight and every part of me was injured in some manner. As he dropped me on the bed I let out a pained cry as he turned me over. Too tired to be embarrassed. Part of me thought that maybe being dead would be better than to suffer whatever Jacob Seed had in store for me next.

His hand slid over my back, the rugged blisters on his hand tangling with my shredding skin and causing more pain for me. “Fuck.” He muttered, something in his voice telling me he wasn’t pleased. “You’re going to need actual medical attention. Letting it be won’t heal nothin’ this time around.” There was an unsettling dread there as he wrapped me up in a pristine white blanket that was soon stained with red- no wonder I felt so lighthearted, I was still bleeding. 

It was like a time skip. Jacob Seed took me out of the bunker door and I could finally see the sunrise atop the lake. Sunrise was soon clouded by the porch, and the porch soon gave way to the interior of a cabin. “Jacob?”

I could feel Jacob come to a halt. “Brother. I thought you were gone already.”

“Joseph and Faith are gone, but I wanted the recipe from last night, so I stayed behind to ask you.” The man I didn’t know’s steps echoed over to me, where he brushed a lock of matted hair from my face. “Jesus, is this woman ever ugly. Her face is swollen, like she’s been in a flooded ditch for a few days.” 

Jacob only grunted. I knew it was him, because he did respond like that sometimes. “I’m going to go get medicine.” He said, promptly turning me over and dropping me on the couch before unveiling my wounds. As he stomped out of the room, I felt a gentle touch slide across the ridges of each painful cut. It didn’t matter how much I sighed or gasped or let out cries, the pressing eventually got harder and harder before I heard a voice by my ear.

“Beautiful.” It sighed, going back from pressing to caressing before digging his nails into my back. I let out a wail. “Jacob did this to you? You have to be one disobedient soldier-- or even look like Helen-- for this kind of shit to happen.”

“Who’s Helen?” I murmured.

“You don’t know? Well, Helen’s the worst thing that ever happened to Jacob. I’m more partial to forgiveness than he is, but he  _ especially  _ dislikes her. Only one of us with lingering feelings over it, and that’s Jacob. Joseph’s all but put it out of his mind, I don’t really care,” He breathed sharply, “But God  _ damn  _ me if your body isn’t gorgeous.” His hands once more pressed into her back resulting in them being covered in her blood. She let out a pained half-screech. “You’re going to scar. It’s going to be beautiful.” John didn’t normally expose himself like this, but he was rock hard. He wondered what it would be like to fuck this woman, right here, right on the couch, staining the fabric with her blood- every thrust causing pain. Lust was such a deadly sin, but he was both a victim and a perpetrator of it. Fuck, it was so hard it hurt. The last time he’d been like this was a long while ago. 

He wanted to kiss her. Taste her.  _ Feel  _ her. His lips grazed her shoulder, kissing all the way down in a straight line. He opened his lips, his tongue running along the ridge of her wound, tasting the blood and flesh. God, was he heated. But he needed to control himself. Jacob was still here. He quickly adjusted his erection, attempting to make it hideable, not to brag but it was big- big enough that he may not be able to hide it from his brother. The girl underneath him whimpered and he ran his lips along her ear before sinking his teeth into the lobe softly before breathing, “Don’t tell Jacob, okay? I hope to find you again, Cinderella. Even if your face is that injured- when it heals I bet that you’ll look pretty. I pray that I can get a confession out of you.” He pulled away as Jacob came back into the room with bandages and rubbing alcohol. 

Jacob knew that something was strange when he saw his brother shoot up after he entered the room. He slowed his pace, tried to observe, but his brother- despite usually seeming innocuous- had a mask on. It was the only way Jacob could describe John’s defense mechanism. Something wasn’t quite right in his brother’s head. Now, there wasn’t exactly something right in Jacob’s head, either, but he had demons- his brother just had fiercer ones, if that was possible. Jacob had served in the first Gulf war, but even then he wasn’t as much of a sadist as John. He understood mercy. For people who deserved it, at least. Not dogs named Bitch that pissed him off and invaded his privacy.

But still, he felt bad for what he’d done. Two hours was too much of a punishment for what the girl had done. But there was still a boiling anger inside of him. She had mentioned Helen, and that was more than enough of a reason to be angered by her. She  _ existed.  _ And he was more disgusted by the fact that he’d been lured in by her- that he’d kissed her. It was a moment of carnal lust and rage mixed up into the pot that was his mind. A moment where he was weakened. His morals, his sense. She was at least thirty years younger than him. He didn’t know her exact age- no, that would make her seventeen and him a pedophile, which he most certainly was not- but he believed she was twenty one or so. Twenty six. He was twenty six years older than her yet he wanted to be buried deep in her cunt last night. That  _ disturbed  _ him, and with his darwinist ideology, not many things did that anymore. 

Fuck. He was as crass as could be. That thought still affected him, even if it was just a little. He always got crass, got instinctual, carnal, when he was lustful and full of rage. His sin was a bit of hubris, a lot of greed, some wrath and a little lust. It’d been a long time since his loins were this affected. The way she begged- did whatever he wanted-  _ fuck, eating the dogfood even- _ he was fucked in the head. Maybe as fucked as John was. What he did yesterday was a bit over the top, even for him. He’d made people act like dogs before, but not to the extent he made her do it.

But a part of him wanted to do it again and go further. Make her a real Bitch. But that’s exactly why he couldn’t. He needed to be in control at all times. An example of what happened when he wasn’t in control is why she’s on that couch, right now. If he wasn’t in control, they’d still be in that darkened room- and she’d probably be a corpse. Would that stop him? If he hadn’t stopped when he had- it would have carried on for a very, very long time, until he was fully satisfied.

Had what Jacob done really been intended as a punishment? Or was it something more sinister? It disturbed him to think he may never know his own mind, nor how far he could go if he let go of the reins. A part of him didn’t take any form of pride from seeing her on that couch. Another part was thrilled that she was there because of him. The one thing that Jacob Seed understood is that none of his siblings could ever know that lying there on that couch was the deputy. “John.” His brother’s head shot up, pulled away from the spell that he seemingly was captured in. “You can leave now.”

“You sure you don’t want any help, brother? You may be digging a grave for this one soon enough.” 

“You’re offering to help with getting your hands dirty?”

“Oh, brother. Hard work cultivates the soul.” 

“Amusing. I won’t need it, gonna nurse her back to health.” Jacob brought the medical kit over to the birchwood coffee table, opening it and preparing the alcohol on a clean rag. The room the deputy had been in was a cellar, so of course it was all dirt and all cold. It meant she was dirty, and that the wounds would be infected if not cleaned and bandaged properly. Being military, he had enough medical knowledge to at least care for wounds, even if he wasn’t doctor-level he could manage them. That would have to be enough.

“My brother Jacob, nursing someone who is  _ weak  _ back to health? Thought I’d never see the day.” 

“You can leave now, John.”

“I have no idea what you two were up to last night, but don’t worry! I won’t tell Joseph you broke the no-fucking rule.”

“ _ John.  _ Nothing happened.”

“So you didn’t..?”

“Please leave.” 

John begrudgingly got up from his spot, pointing at Jacob as he backed away, “Oh, brother- how could I have forgotten that you’re past your expiration date? Probably can’t even get it up with how old you’re getting.”

“John.” Jacob paused, before looking up at his brother with malice and an eyebrow raised. “If you don’t leave right now, I am going to introduce you to the barrel of my hunting rifle you’re so interested in.” 

“Okay final offer- you give me your hunting rifle, I leave without saying a word.” As Jacob stood, he towered slightly over John and although he was taller but not by much it was enough. “Okay, changing the final offer- I leave without saying a word and you  _ maybe  _ let me use your hunting rifle the next time we come here for dinner.” John backed away as he spoke before scrambling through the door and slamming it shut behind here.

“As if that’s ever going to happen,” Jacob muttered, before grabbing the bottle of alcohol. He took a swig, knowing he’d probably need it, before dumping the contents of the bottle onto her back. She screamed; of course she would, it was most likely heavily painful. 

“Why?” The woman whimpered, her breath a hiss from enduring the stinging pain of the alcohol meant to clean her wounds. 

Jacob sat his ass down on the coffee table, looking down the neck of the bottle. Might as well tell the truth. “Because I don’t like you.” 

* * *

 

What I was wearing was embarrassing at best. I had never worn a man’s clothes before and Jacob’s smelled eerily like him- I didn’t know if these were washed or not but I noticed that he didn't exactly change every day. The shirt was long enough to cover my upper legs, but not much else, and I hid what I could from him in shame. My entire body was bandaged for the most part, so it was as if I was covered tightly by some sort of bandage body-suit. Red was already seeping through the bandages, which meant there was more to worry about, but at least I wasn’t as bloody as I had been before. Jacob had to pick me up and carry me to the truck because I still couldn’t walk, but he was as careless as he had been before. Nothing had changed- even if he helped me by bandaging my wounds he was the one who put them there first of all, reminding me that no matter how human Jacob seemed in those videos on his computer, he wasn’t human anymore. 

As I laid my head back, watching the forest change from forest, to mountainview, to lake, all blending together- I felt blank. There wasn’t much of a way that I could describe Jacob without seeing him as a monster. “You’re more bearable when you don’t talk.” I was surprised he had even bothered to talk to me. All I did was look over at him, my eyes dead. I was so fucking sick of his face, his attitude. He’d crossed a lot of lines last night. I thought he was crazy- thought he was insane- but he’d never hurt me. He never hurt me. He never raised a hand against me before last night. 

He stared at me, those green eyes of his unreadable, and I looked away, not caring to grace him with a response. He seemed to take that satisfactorily, as he didn’t say anything else. 

I’ve lost my sense of time, and along with it, my freedom.

* * *

 

“Glenn, are you here yet?” John was on the radio frequency meant for his men. 

“No, John. Stop asking.” The voice on the other end was  _ full  _ of teenage angst. John didn’t pick his men- he let God pick his men for him. More specifically, the man who has been his assistant for four years- ever since he was fourteen. John had cultivated him, kind of. His appearance, attitude, made him seem far from God- but appearances could be decieving, especially in Glenn’s case. 

He could hear Glenn’s punkish music blasting on the radios as the pickup truck pulled to the side of the road. He knew it was Glenn, because nobody else listened to that shit. As Glenn pulled up beside John, who’s car had broken down on the side of the road, Glenn looked at him through his shades. The man popped his gum before tossing the shades into the back, his green eyes staring down John with varying intensities. “So, you got me to drive for an hour to either fix your car, or pick you up?” 

“Fix it. It’s a chevy. I’m not leaving a chevy on the side of the road.” 

“You’re lucky I brought spark plugs.” Glenn muttered, opening the door. He was wearing a leather jacket, along with tight skinny jeans. He was as far from country as could be, snakebites and piercings in his ears. He had  _ eyebrow  _ piercings. John tried to keep Glenn as far from Joseph as he could, but he could only do so much- Glenn had an  _ interesting  _ upbringing. As Glenn dug through the back of the truck, John walked up behind him and clapped him on the back.

“Thank you for coming to pick me up, Glenn.” 

“You can suck my dick in appreciation later, manwhore.” This earned him a rough slap to the back of the head. 

“Glenn. Language. Don’t forget your place.”

“Come on, John! You sleep with more people than my mother, and she was a prostitute.” 

“Hoh-oh.” John wagged his finger at Glenn. “Testing my patience, boy.” 

“Relax, John. Can’t you take a joke?” Glenn pulled out the spark plugs. “You know I’m joking.”

John took them from Glenn. “Boy, remember that I adopted you. The bible says to honor your parents.” 

“If that’s true, then does this mean I get to call myself Glenn Seed?”

“I don’t think you really  _ match  _ the Seed family name.”

“Well, daddy, you’re the one inditing me into the Seed family cult.”

“It’s not a  _ cult,  _ Glenn! Do you need another baptism?”

“I dunno, John. You might hold me under for six minutes this time.”

“Nothing personal, Glenn- you just have a lot to atone for.” John and Glenn had a strange relationship. The boy was mouthy, but he meant well- and he worked for the cult, as John’s assistant- never against it. He wasn’t the violent type, but he was turning nineteen soon. Mouthy, but kind. He had the sin of pride, and dressed like a vagabond heretic, but he was never hesitant to confess. When John found him as a boy over the body of his father- well, John was a lawyer- the woman wanted a divorce. So when he went at the designated time, he had found the child. The father had killed the mother and the son had killed the father. John took a moment, but he decided to bring the child along- child didn’t complain much. Still labelled as missing, most likely dead, Glenn had never gone anywhere that wasn’t of his own volition. So, John had unofficially adopted the boy. 

Boy worked hard when asked. Helped with cattle. Knew how to hunt. Wore those ridiculous outfits of his, mouthed off, but he learned fast. Was smart. Didn’t really give much of a shit as to what was going on. He expected nothing and even learned how to cook. The boy reminded him of himself, mostly because he’d do what it took to survive, no matter what- and he’d never, ever bite the hand that fed him.

It was no lie that John was also partial to the boy. A weak spot, if you would. Hadn’t introduced him to his family for a reason, that reason being John doubted Joseph would approve, Jacob wouldn’t like him and Faith--- it didn’t really matter what Faith thought.

Still, his partialness to Glenn would be considered a big weakness, but he knew--- Glenn was more devoted to the Project than most. His devotion may even rival Faith’s. He’s been here for years, more than the current Faith has. As the car started up as a result of Glenn’s fiddling, John felt a bit proud- he’d been the one to teach Glenn to do that. A smile came across his face and he walked up to Glenn. “What say you we get some breakfast?”

“Fall’s End?” Glenn asked, grinning.

“Yep. Spread Eagle.”

“Mary May Fairgrave’s shit? How’re you gonna get her to cook for us?” 

“Listen, my boy. You can get anyone to do anything if you hold a gun to their head long enough.” 

“Seems shady enough. Well, before long it’ll be noon, so we’d better go if we want to get there in time for breakfast specials.” Glenn yanked opened the door, getting into the passenger’s seat. John gently took the sunglasses off the top of his hair and settled them on his nose, pushing them up a little before straightening out his coat. 

“No need to worry about time. She’ll serve us no matter what time’s on the clock.” He opened the door and got in the front seat, starting up the chevy and hitting the gas. Dust kicked up behind the vehicle as they raced off into the distance. 

 

* * *

 

 

It had been a day since we returned and Jacob returned with the tell-tale red in his hand. He snapped his fingers, signalling for me to come to the front of the cage, with I did without a second’s thought. If I wanted to escape, I’d have to wait for an opening- and I couldn’t do that in the cage. As I crawled on my hands and knees, he opened it with the key around his neck. “Got a gift for you, Rook.” 

I looked at him with contempt and he returned that look. He wasn’t pleased with the way I was staring, but how much more could he control? Hadn’t spoken to him. Obeyed him. What more did he want? What more could I give him?

_ You can’t give me what I want, Rook.  _

Would he just never be satisfied? Was that it? He was dealing with my behaviour, but I didn’t know how much longer he’d take my rebellious glances. He signalled me to come forwards before grabbing my neck. “Don’t. Move.” I froze in place, feeling his skin against mine, brushing softly but firmly as he brought something behind my neck with the other hand- whatever he was holding jingled and I flinched and his grip around my neck tightened, choking me- “It’s a simple order, Rook.” His grip loosened as he strapped something around my neck and I could feel a weight that hadn’t been there before- I heard a  _ chink.  _ As he pulled me forward by whatever he had put on me, he brought me to the other side of the room, a wall that held a chain. He held up the end before clipping it to the thing around my neck, bringing a stand-up mirror and angling it down so I could see. 

A bright-red collar with metal plating that read  _ Bitch.  _

As if to add insult to injury, a little chain dangling down held a bell. One that would let him know if I moved, even an inch. It jingled as I stood up, legs shaking- they’d been cramped in the cage. I was attached to a chain firmly fitted in the wall, new by the looks of it, and he must’ve put it in while sleeping. His compound was normally very loud, but I had gotten used to the sounds. Instead of kicking me down and forcing me to the ground like I expected, he let me stand. “You’ve got new privileges, Bitch.” Like a prisoner. So, I was getting rewarded for being well behaved. As his hand dipped into a bowl on the table, he brought an apple up to my eyesight. He put it in a bowl- humorously and embarrassingly marked Bitch, the same shade of ruby red as my collar- and stepped away. “Enjoy.”

I ravenously tore into the apple as he watched, the juices running down my chin and I didn’t even care for manners or propriety. The only thing I’d eaten in five days was a mouthful of dry, disgusting dog-food, so the apple tasted like heaven. I almost ate the core- it took me about a minute to consume the apple fully and yet my stomach still hungered but even with this small morsel it meant that Jacob didn’t intend to starve me to death…

But keep me on the brink of starvation. He’d extended the time before I did actually starve to at least two days. It would keep me weak. 

As I scrambled away from him, hiding closer to the plaque, my freedom of movement surprised me. It felt good. I hid beside the part where I was chained to the wall, and Jacob grunted before turning away, sorting through papers before leaving the room.

I tested the metal that held me to the wall. It was in pristine condition. There was no way I’d be able to get out of this with my bare hands. The next thing I tried was the collar- but it was so tight it’d be impossible to take it off like a necklace. Turns out that chink sound was the collar locking, as I saw in the mirror when I went in for a more detailed look. 

My face was healing, although slowly, and I was beginning to look a little more like me. That fucking monster of a man wouldn’t get the best of me- not if I had something to say about it. I paused. What about Zig? He’d been captured too, most likely- last time I asked about him I paid for it dearly in the form of the bruises on my face. The tears I had spilled had swollen and reddened my face so I wasn’t surprised John hadn’t recognized me through all the damage Jacob had caused.

It was clear there was no current opening to escape, so I had to wait. I had survived this long, so what was a few more days? 

 

* * *

  
  


Jacob had barely any time for me since we got back. I was busy planning based on what I’d seen entering the compound again- he hadn’t had a bag over my head, or anything- and the walk to his area was rather short. He didn’t sleep in the same room as the cage but he called it his room regardless. The cage had been removed from the room, most likely for cleaning. 

Still, something was different when Jacob came in today. He seemed like he was in a bad mood, and the rashes on his arms were worse than ever- so red it was obvious that it was there. As he sat on the counter, he beckoned me forward without speaking a word. I had grown accustomed to crawling about on my hands and feet like I was a dog. The humiliating feeling never quite went away but he made a  _ hmmph  _ sound, making me think that perhaps he was pleased. I heard something ruffle on the table and looked up as he offered me something in the cupped palm of his hand- as I reached up to take it, he grabbed my hand, lowering himself until he was kneeling. I could see that rather than something grabbable it was bits of a crushed cookie. His thumb brushed against the flesh of my wrist before he let go of it and beckoned me closer again. 

As I dragged myself forward he lowered his hand and I realized he wanted to have me  _ eating out of the palm of his hand,  _ literally. They were dirty. He hadn’t washed them. I think he knew that it would bother me, because there was a smile on his face that hadn’t been there before. Still, wanting to avoid pain, the suffering of what happened earlier- I’d push my nose into his hand, licking up the cookie crumbs. Tasting the sweetness of the chocolate chips, I realized I was starving and I ate hungrily. “A treat for being a good girl.” 

His knife was on the table. I eyed it, the hilt kind of hanging off the side. And, lo and behold- God had seemingly answered her prayers. “Jacob! Resistance is here! They got past the gate!” He shot up, brushing past the table- and leaving his knife behind. I waited a moment. Wondered if he’d come back for his knife. When he didn’t, I snatched it off the table, just barely being able to reach it with my fingertips. I scrambled back to the small metal plate on the wall and although this would do nothing to the chain itself, I had different plans. I slid the knife in between the metal plate and the wall, working at it with all my strength- as the knife bit into the soft wood I knew that I had the right idea. 

Prying half of the metal off I looked behind my shoulder. It didn’t seem like anyone was coming, so I continued aggressively chipping away at the final screws before---

I was free. 

I wasn’t all healed yet, but this would have to do. Who knew when I’d get a chance like this again? Wrapping the long chain around my arm, I’d have to take the metal plate with me- maybe I could use it as some kind of weapon. I darted out of his room, looking to the left, then the right-

There were so many options.

The wrong one meant death.

No pressure.

 


	8. vii - Open Season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not afraid of you, Rook. You had a chance to kill one of my men, but all you did was knock him out.” He leaned in close to the bar and I took the chance- putting the knife up against his throat, where it nicked his flesh and all the while he grinned. I’d do anything to wipe that fucking smile off of his face. 
> 
> “Is that something you want to bet your life on?”
> 
> “You won’t do it, Rook.”
> 
> “Says who?”
> 
> “Says me. I don’t think I need to explain myself to you.” 
> 
> I kept pumping myself up, readying it, imagining the gush of blood that would come from his neck when I slit it and how easy it would all be if I just killed him here and now so he couldn’t hurt anyone again. I’m going to do it.
> 
> I can do it.
> 
> I can stop Jacob Seed from hurting anyone ever again. 
> 
> Just one life. I just need to take one life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll add more detail, more length, later. Right now I'm focusing more on the story than the pompadour, you know?  
> ***Severe trauma warning***

I looked to the left. Then the right. Left again. I didn’t have much time, so I needed to make a decision. Left. Right was wrong. I had to go with instinct, so I dashed to the left, hurrying down the stairs. I almost clashed with a cultist at the bottom of the stairs- his face lit up in confused recognition as he raised his gun to take aim but I swung the piece of iron on the train and whipped it at him, smashing him in the face. I jumped as the piece hit the floor, making a  _ thump  _ sound along with the body- I stayed just long enough to see his chest rise and fall, signalling I had just knocked him out rather than killed him.

Rook had made a lucky choice, as when she raced to the left, Jacob came from the right. He’d been halfway out when he checked for his knife- Damn woman managed to distract him and he knew there’d be chaos because he’d never expected such a bold move from the resistance. They never should’ve. It wasn’t right because it wasn’t something the resistance would do, but who else would attack him in broad daylight? Not Eli. He had respect for Eli, knew him well enough that Eli wouldn’t do this. Even if Jacob had Eli’s son, the man wasn’t that stupid. As he came into the room, his face fell. The Bitch wasn’t there. Neither was the chain. His fucking knife was on the floor, beside the torn out wall. “She’s gonna fuckin’ pay for this.” Jacob’s mood had gone from sour to south. He had given her a little bit of his  _ trust.  _ He had rewarded her for being good, so much so that he’d let his guard down just the slightest. He let himself make a mistake around her. Thought she was finally docile, but those glares- this situation he found himself in- that meant otherwise. Rage built in him as he thought of ways to make her regret what she just did so she’d never do it again. 

Meanwhile, I was trying my best to find Zig. Luck seemed to be on my side as I ran into Staci Pratt. “Staci!” I put my hand on his arm and he whipped around, hands flying to my neck before he looked me up and down and saw that it was, indeed, me.

“Rook.” He breathed, his hand moving up from my neck to caress my cheek. I didn’t pull away, but I found it to be an odd gesture. “You’re just- you’re not- you’re different.” He stammered. “You… you need to get out. You need to  _ go. _ ” He urged, shoving me out the door- but I planted my feet firmly into the ground.

“I need you to tell me where Zig is.” 

“Zig?” Staci asked, his brows furrowing into a frown.

“Dark skin, dirty blonde hair.” I tried, hoping that Zig had a unique enough appearance in the Whitetails for it to be easy to remember him. “He has a braid going down his back.” 

“Eli’s kid. The punk.”

“I don’t know, probably?” It struck me that I didn’t quite know anything about Zig, but I was willing to risk my life to get him out of here. It was fucking insane, but I couldn’t explain it. 

“One floor down. Third room on the left.” As I turned to go, Staci Pratt grabbed my arm. “Make it out, Rook. Don’t come back.” His eyes were desperate, and I knew that Pratt was a kind man- even if he kind of looked like the type of guy to string women along. I feel like maybe that was him in the past- that he did have the appearance of an asshole- but he had gone through shit, and there was no guarantee he’d ever be the same. 

“Come with me, Pratt.”

Pratt let out a half-laugh, half chuckle. “Could kiss you, Rook, just for saying that.” Seeing my expression, he shook his head. “Won’t, though, you know. I won’t. I can’t.” I didn’t know whether he was talking about kissing me or coming with me, but he shoved me. “Go, quickly. Jacob will know, and he’ll know fast. I’ll try to stop him.”

As I ran out of the room, towards where Pratt had directed me, I realized that the Compound was under attack, and that the resistance was either insane or on its last legs to pull somethinglike this. Almost nobody was in the main building, everyone being outside to defend. As I ran into the room where Zig was supposed to be- I found him. Chained to the wall by his hands. “Zig! Zig!” I cried, sliding across the floor to struggle with his chains. 

“Never thought I’d see your pretty face again.” Zig laughed dryly, and I could hear it in his voice. He was dehydrated. He lacked strength. There was no doubt he wouldn’t be able to run out of here like I could. 

I shook my head. “It’s not time to flirt, Zig, it’s time to escape.”

As he started a coughing fit he protested, trying to move his shackles away from my hands. “No, Rook. You have to go. You have to- you can’t save me, Rook. If they catch you-”

“They won’t catch me.”

“How do you know?” 

“Because believe it or not, I have faith.”

“Starting to sound like one of them.”

I turned to the door when I heard the sound of it opening. Someone I didn’t know- who certainly didn’t look like a cultist- cocked a gun and aimed it at my head. “Get away from him, you fuckin’ peggie tramp.” 

“Skylar? That you? She ain’t a peggie.”

Skylar, the guy who held the gun, seemingly let it drop to the side and hang on its strap as he ran over to Zig. “We’ve been busting our asses, Zig- fuckin’ asshole Glenn fucking  _ betrayed us.  _ I’m gonna fucking wring his neck when I see him next. They took Daisy and Sam.”

“Friends of yours?” I looked over at Zig, who nodded agonizingly slowly. He seemed to be processing the situation. 

“You guys shouldn’t have come.” 

“Fuck that, man! I’m not losing any more of my family, god fucking damn it! After what Glenn did- after you went missing- fuck, man.” Skylar was nearly in tears. His appearance was roguish, punk, and I didn’t think he would cry. “I need you, Zig. Emily needs you.” 

Zig groaned, and I looked him over. He had a busted nose, but that was it. He wasn’t as wounded as me, which meant that Jacob hadn’t hurt him. Or maybe Jacob had. I didn’t know. I couldn’t trust Jacob. 

Speaking of Jacob, he had rushed down the stairs, to Pratt. He knew what the girl was going for, so he grabbed Pratt by the collar. “You. You told her where he was, didn’t you?” Pratt gave no response. “Her disobedience is infectious.” Still, he dragged Pratt to the entrance of the room, holding his red pistol in his other hand. He was going to kill someone today. Walking out of the room, he kicked the leg of what he assumed was a corpse- but his man groaned. He cocked his gun, firing off a round into the man’s head. Weak men weren’t worthy.

“Where are the keys, Zig?” Skylar asked, having gone through the room like a tornado, throwing things about.

“If you make any more noise, someone’s gonna start noticing no matter how crazy it is outside.” I snapped. 

“Jacob. Jacob has them, probably.”

“Where’s Jacob?” Skylar asked, taking his pistol out of the back of his pants. He loaded it with a new clip and I knew exactly what he intended to do with that knowledge, before I heard a shot ring off and his brains were now splattered on the wall. I froze, breathing in deeply, before breathing out, as Skylar’s body slumped to the floor in what felt like slow motion. It took forever for him to hit the ground, but his pistol clattered to the floor, sliding underneath the curtains.

“Thought it was the resistance. Turns out it’s only a bunch of teenagers playing army men.” I turned to meet Jacob’s green eyes, and he pointed his gun at Zig. Being as suicidal as I seemed to be, I jumped in front of his aim, noting that he was holding Pratt by the collar. He continued aiming, raising an eyebrow as if to wait before throwing Pratt to the side. Pratt scrambled up from the floor, backing into the corner of the room. “Pratt, close the door.”

Pratt obeyed obediently, and I knew that he would be of no help here. “Please.” 

“Please, what?” His voice was low. This meant something  _ very bad.  _ What did it mean? I didn’t know yet. I had the unsettling feeling I was about to find out. “Tell me, what does this kid mean to you, Rook? So much that you’d risk being shot in the head for him?” 

“I’ll do anything you want. Anything. Just let him go. He’s not a part of this.” 

“Rook!” 

Pratt watched silently from the door, standing in front of it. He wouldn’t let anyone enter or leave. “Anything?” As Jacob stalked to the table, he picked up a roll of duct tape. Moving around me counterclockwise, he reached Zig. He bit off a good length of tape, slapping it over Zig’s mouth for good measure. I watched him, like a deer caught in headlights. “The weak have their purpose, Rook.” He began by removing his jacket, draping it over a chair near the table in the middle of the room. This was the first time I had seen him without it and I backed up as he advanced. “This time, I want to hear you scream.”

I had no idea what he was going to do, but I had a feeling he was going to hurt me in front of both Pratt and Zig. As he stood over me, he sniffed, before kneeling down and the  _ thwack, thwack, thwack  _ of his belt being pulled from his jeans filled my ears. “You say he’s not a part of this, but you don’t know anything about this. Rook, everything comes at a price, and what you’re asking me to do- let him go- I’ll do it, but it’s going to cost you. It’s going to cost you very,  _ very  _ steeply.” As he looped his belt around my wrists and pulled it tight, he smirked. “Rook. I don’t care how much you regret this. But you’re not allowed to whine about it. Remember, this was your choice.” 

As he dragged me by my feet to the middle of the floor I was too terrified to speak. I looked at Staci, my eyes full of fear at whatever Jacob Seed was going to do next, who simply looked away. “Pratt. Come hold her down.” Staci was fast when it came to Jacob’s orders, sitting just above the area my head was, holding me firmly to the floor by my wrists despite the fact my arms were tied. “Don’t want any stray movements.” 

As he pulled out his knife I began to kick but Jacob swiftly elbowed me in the stomach, leaving me reeling from the pain, gasping for air. His hand slid under my shirt and I shrieked, trying to struggle away from him, but it didn’t work. It wouldn’t as long as Staci was behind me. His knife came through the shirt, tearing it open, leaving me partially exposed save for my underwear. I took this chance to panic. “What are you doing?!”

“What does it look like I’m doing? Picking flowers?” He responded sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you know, Bitch. Not like you haven’t done the devil’s dance before.” I had no idea what the devil’s dance was, but if a cultist called it that- it was something very, very bad. He pried apart my legs, moving in between them, and I heard the telltale  _ snap  _ of a button coming undone. For some reason, it was louder than I’d ever heard before, but I was afraid. As Jacob cut open my panties, I felt the cool air hit me down below and I shuddered- looking down I was met with-

“Oh my god.” I breathed, before trying to struggle out of Pratt’s gasp. Jacob was holding one monstrosity of a cock- the first I’d ever seen- and my first thought was that it was really, really ugly and very,  _ very  _ big. As he pressed the head of it against my entrance, rubbing it against my lower lips agonizingly slowly, I screamed. “No! No, that won’t fit! It can’t!”

“I don’t know about my brothers, Rook, but I’d have to say God definitely gifted me with His grace.” I let out a cry as Jacob pistoned his hips forward, penetrating me, his hands on my hips. He was straining, a vein appearing on his neck as he tried to force his way inside me and I could feel the tears running down my face. “Fuck, Rook, you’re the tightest I’ve ever had.” He groaned, and I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside. Jacob paused. “Blood.” And true to what he said, blood was on the head of his cock, coating it like a thin lube. “So, you’re a virgin. You were one, at least.”

“Why?!” I screamed again, a mix of grief, rage and misery. 

As Jacob hilted me I let out another agonized cry, because he didn’t care for my wellbeing- he’d rather see me in pain. He put his hands on either side of my head, leaning over me, before slowly and deliberately pounding into me, in and out, over and over and over, a grunt with each thrust. 

It was the first time that I had a man on top of me in this manner. It felt wrong, awkward- invasive. But I could  _ feel  _ him inside me. I could feel one of his hands straying over my body, his head leaning forward into my shoulder as I heard him gasp in pleasure while I was suffering in pain. 

It was as if him, on top of me, lasted forever. I almost forgot that both Pratt and Zig were watching. As Jacob grabbed my throat with one hand, squeezing tightly, I could feel his hips buck against me. He was slowing, aiming deep. As he thrusted, he held his hips in place, to the deepest point he could get in me and I could feel something alien filling me- something warm, something that didn’t originate from my body. 

As Jacob pulled out, he stood, stuffing his dick back into his pants. 

He looked down at the woman he’d just raped, and he could feel his cock pulse. He wanted to do it again, but the expression on her face told him that if he pushed it too hard it wouldn’t mean good for him. She was crying, and his semen and blood mixed together in a puddle as it dripped from her sex. He’d probably torn her, yet it turned him on all the more. He knew that it was wrong, but that was what made it so fucking  _ right.  _

He’d already done so much in the eyes of the government, what was rape compared to everything else? As Jacob motioned to Pratt, who gave him a key, the Deputy looked on in despair as she realized that Pratt had kept the key from her, the one that would release Zig. As he unlocked the restraints, Zig fell to the floor and Jacob roughly grabbed him by the arm before nodding to Pratt. “Bring the woman.”

Pratt quickly picked up the woman, holding onto her tightly just as Jacob had demanded. Seemed like he had choked all of the life out of her, because the deputy stumbled and fell to the floor, unable to walk- Pratt knew she’d be in too much pain. He’d fucked enough women, at least four of them had been virgins, to know that with how big he’d seen Jacob to be-- she wasn’t just about to start walking around, especially when he forced it. Pratt had been an honest-to-god asshole. He didn’t believe in God. He believed in telling someone he loved them just so he could get a new hole to give him a fun time. Pratt was your run-of-the-mill asshole. The kind who’d fucked virgins just to see how many, how easily he could get them to spread their legs- for sport. And now, with the deputy, he sort of looked at it differently. Don’t get him wrong- every part of him knew that it was wrong, that neither of them deserved this and the Deputy was his only chance of getting out of here, but maybe Joseph was right. 

And if he was, Pratt didn’t want to be on the losing side. So he hadn’t given the Deputy the key, because her and him, they were going places. Together. And she had something Jacob didn’t- she had mercy. Love. He didn’t want to be alone. He was scared. Maybe she’d understand if he told her, maybe he wouldn’t. Even so, he wanted her to be with him. He barely knew her. Just thought she’d be another one to sleep with. Maybe she would. So many maybes. As he picked her up, one arm under her legs, the other supporting her back, he could feel Jacob’s seed on his arm (no pun intended) but he didn’t dare try to shake it off, not with Jacob watching. Jacob was the alpha and he’d keep his head down. 

Staci was really regretting what he’d said to Jacob in that bar.

* * *

 

Staci Pratt had been surrounded by his friends, men of similar values and tastes. A few punks were in the corner, one with his arm around a rather fine piece of ass- Staci was sure she was eighteen and on top of that, eyeing him up and  _ fuck,  _ she had to be on drugs and he was gonna make an arrest. At least, he was if she wasn’t gonna suck him off. Taking a swig of his beer, he sauntered towards the fucking degenerate trash in the booth. On his way over, however, his shoulder met with another man’s and his beer went up in the air, dousing them both. “What the fuck, man?” 

He was toe-to-toe with Jacob Seed. The man’s face was unreadable, stone. “Hey. You’re that one creepy-ass Seed dude, right? The one who kept bothering Marilyn.” He grinned, before chuckling. “I’ll have you know, she was good in bed. She thanked me for saving her from you, man. Thanks for getting me an easy lay.”

Something changed in his expression, but Jacob did nothing. Despite the fact he was covered in beer, being humiliated by what he’d most definitely considered a weaker man, nothing good would come of him losing it now. “And those creepy-ass flowers you’ve been leaving her, man, how fucking cliche is that?” 

Patience. Patience was something that Staci Pratt didn’t get back then. Why Jacob just turned away, walking out of the bar rather than punching him, Staci couldn’t understand. He’d pushed every button in the fucking book yet the man could just walk away like it was nothing. If Staci was in his place he’d beat the shit out of him and say it was simply because he threatened him.

He’d watched Jacob walk away, and Jacob must’ve known at that point he’d have the upper hand someday. That fucking bastard would be the man who raped a girl in front of him while he held her down. The Staci of yesterday and the one of today knew two different realities when it came to Jacob Seed.

* * *

 

“Go.” Jacob Seed commanded, nodding to the open gate. Staci finally let down the girl as Jacob raised his rifle, poking Zig’s back as he shoved him forward. The malnourished man began to walk away, turning back to look at Jacob with contempt. 

“I’ll come back for you, Rook!” He called, and Jacob aimed the nozzle of the gun at Zig to encourage him to keep moving. 

As I was let down from Staci’s arms I stumbled, grabbing onto the person closest to me which at that point was Jacob Seed. The rashes and bumps and burns on his arms were the first thing I felt, and I looked up at him, only to have him look down at me. His expression was one of surprise, as if he hadn’t expected that, and I leaned into him, in too much pain to stand on my own. I watched Zig disappear into the woods before turning back to Jacob, burying my face in his shirt, clinging to it as I tried to bear the pain and emotional trauma of the fact I was clinging to my rapist. 

Jacob smelled like a mixture of the forest, blood and death. Sweat, too. Very salty. I could feel his warmth and I was having trouble putting any pressure on my legs so standing on my own wasn’t much of an option and I could feel his arm come awkwardly, slowly, around my waist, holding me to him. It was like he was taking his time in deciding whether he should embrace me or shove me away and I knew I’d have to bear being able to touch him if I wanted to survive. I wanted to cry, scream, hurt him even- but I had to suck up my pain and keep it inside if I would ever have a chance for escape again. I saved a single person by playing along. This didn’t change anything. Him raping me didn’t change the fact that if he decided I was no longer someone to keep around I’d be six feet under. Maybe I could make him love me, run away that way. Maybe I could get him to let me go.

As he pulled me away those intense green eyes stared into my own. The look on his face meant that the pain wasn’t over. “You’ve disappointed me.” 

“I know.” I answered, without skipping a beat. “Punish me and get it over with.” 

His brows furrowed. “At least you’re getting used to how this works. Maybe it’ll be incentive for you to stop disappointing me.”

“That’ll be the day, won’t it, Jacob?” He grunted, and I felt pain in my abdomen as I almost dropped. I would have, had Jacob not been there to catch me and I said through strained breath, “Was that really necessary?

“No.” He replied.

Of course it wasn’t.

 

* * *

I hadn’t expected him to be dragging me all over the place, but I didn’t expect to be left in a cage, outside, hazy and in pain. I wondered when the cycle would end, when hell would finally simply give up on torturing me, but it seemed like my escape wasn’t yet greenlit in the eyes of whatever sort of divine intervention kept me from both dying and escaping. 

Jacob hadn’t chained me down for once and the cage was spacey compared to the cramped one he’d kept me in before. Unfortunately, I may have preferred the cage from before as Jacob flicked his wrist and I scrambled backwards as the knife hit the ground with a  _ thump,  _ sinking into the cold dirt. A growl came from the dark and I looked to where it had come from only to see a white wolf drag its paws along the ground, stalking towards me and finally lunging and I screamed only for the creature to stop dead midair and be yanked back by the metal collar around its neck. 

I felt the chain jiggle and the collar around my own neck be pulled to the side a little. Looking over to the left, where Jacob was sitting, he gave me an ultimatum. “Kill, or be killed.” My chain was now attached to a peg, just out of reach of the cage. “We’ll fix this,” He gestured to the metal piece, “After you’re done reflecting on what you’ve done and killing that there judge wolf.” 

“This is your knife.” I said. My fingers wrapped around the hilt, pulling it out of the ground. My thumb went across the ridge of the knife drawing a thin well of blood and I let out a hiss, sucking on it. That was a stupid thing to do.

“I’m not afraid of you, Rook. You had a chance to kill one of my men, but all you did was knock him out.” He leaned in close to the bar and I took the chance- putting the knife up against his throat, where it nicked his flesh and all the while he grinned. I’d do anything to wipe that fucking smile off of his face. 

“Is that something you want to bet your life on?”

“You won’t do it, Rook.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. I don’t think I need to explain myself to you.” 

I kept pumping myself up, readying it, imagining the gush of blood that would come from his neck when I slit it and how easy it would all be if I just killed him here and now so he couldn’t hurt anyone again.  _ I’m going to do it. _

_ I can do it. _

_ I can stop Jacob Seed from hurting anyone ever again.  _

_ Just one life. I just need to take one life. _

As he drew back from the knife I realized that the only reason I had nicked him was because he was pushing into it. I had never intended to kill him from the start. I tried to trick myself into thinking I would, thinking it would make it easier, but it didn’t. My hand trembled as I tried to steady myself and my emotions.

“You’re not a killer, Rook. You don’t have what it takes to kill a man. You never will.” He stood from the stool he was sitting on. “I will be back in six days. Make some progress on your good nature, become someone worth keeping around. I hope to see progress I can reward rather than having to take disciplinary action.” As Jacob walked away, I didn’t know it yet, but he was serious- he wouldn’t see me for another six days. 

The days in the cage were abysmal and not worth mentioning, at best. I refused to kill the wolf. I wouldn’t go near it. I wasn’t fucking stupid. I knew what Jacob wanted but I didn’t want to give him it. Even if I couldn’t do anything else, I wouldn’t give up my morals for that entitled mother fucker. As the days passed both of us became weaker. I began talking to the wolf, telling it stories, probably an attempt not to lose my mind. Sometimes I wondered if it was listening but I remembered that it wasn’t exactly well fed and if push came to shove and there was a chance it’d tear me to shreds.

Sometimes I heard Jacob’s voice on the other side of the wooden boards, barking out commands, taking inventory, training soldiers and judge wolves. I wondered if he could hear me too and it was a rather creepy thought to think of him sitting on the other side, listening to my stories that were meant for the wolf’s ears only, knowing more about me than I wanted him to know. 

I stopped telling the wolf stories shortly after that thought crossed my mind.

For the most part two days passed in peace and quiet and I was glad to temporarily be free of Jacob Seed. There’d be no standing for me, not that it would be possible with how high this cage was- I wouldn’t have to crouch but I’d definitely need to bend down a little. I used my free time to make little carvings in the wood where I usually heard Jacob on the other side, mostly crude, well-thought out messages such as ‘Jacob is a cunt’ and the like. 

Staci Pratt came to the rescue. He held steak. It was hastily cooked, but he had it. As he passed it through the bars, he looked around. “I’m earning more food. Can bring you one meal a day. Can get away from Jacob once a day.” The wolf growled, and he scrambled away. I held up the meat, staring it down and it seemed like I had a contender. As I watched Pratt run away, I didn’t want to know what he’d done to get a slab of steak like this. 

“I don’t want your fucking blood food.” I muttered, tossing it to the wolf, who tore into it. I watched, sucking up the fact I was hungry. I wouldn’t eat anything I was given in this cage. 

It went like that for a few days. Staci brought me meat. I’d take a bite, toss the rest to the wolf. Kept it at least fed a bit. More than me, but I could survive. The future was bleak anyways, and I wasn’t losing my only company just yet. 

I had been marking the bars with a knife, trying to at least keep track of how many days had gone by. When I hit the fifth night, I knew the morning held something awful for me.

It was the sixth day. The morning I woke up to god-awful howling right in my ear. Shifting to sit up, I noted that the wolf was lying on the floor, panting, unmoving- and I wondered what the hell was happening. I tested the waters by moving my foot close to it, figuring I could live without one if it was foolish, but then I moved closer and jumped back when the wolf raised its head. It let out a mournful whine, and my fingers pushed into its fur, sliding over its muzzle and it was a miracle it hadn’t tried to rip my throat out yet. I murmured by its ear, not understanding what was going on but trying to comfort it with stories. If it was gonna die, I wasn’t gonna let it die alone. 

The sounds went on for two hours until I heard a  _ schlick. Shlick. Shlick. _

I heard yips, yaps, and there were three scrambling, blood-covered, little puppies. Not puppies- pups. Wolf pups. They squirmed along blindly, nuzzling at their mother’s stomach and I realized- it was a girl wolf. It was a girl wolf, a  _ pregnant  _ girl wolf. It let out a wail and I swore it was trying to talk to me, but its breathing became more laboured, slowing to the point of nonexistence and I picked up its head, putting it in my lap, soothingly petting all over and trying my best to keep it here. “Come on, girl.” I pleaded, no response.

I knew that I couldn’t leave the puppies here, they’d  _ die.  _ I wasn’t a murderer and I couldn’t. I did my best to hide them in the billowing shirt Jacob had given me, which was now blood and sweatcovered and generally disgusting. The three squirming pups helped me to feel warmth of another creature and I was almost sick as I thought that Jacob was the last person who I felt warmth from physically. Pulling myself together, I shushed the pups, who of course didn’t understand, holding them close as the doors to the cage swung open and Jacob pulled my chain to get me out of the cage. I crawled forward, using one arm to move and the other to hold the squirming puppies in praying to the lord above that he didn’t notice the extra weight. 

As he grabbed my arm, collecting the chain like he would a rope, he gestured in front of him. The soreness hadn’t really subsided but it was bearable now. “Let’s go, Rook.”

I watched him pick up his knife, and I swallowed, hard, as he looked over the judge wolf. 

I think I was acting as expected- perfectly tense, for good reason. I’d disobeyed Jacob  _ again.  _ Not to mention, I had three pups in my shirt that I was trying to keep hidden and I was pretending it was because of injuries that I was hunched over. 

This could go very, very right,

But it was more likely to take a hard turn to the wrong. 

 


	9. viii - The Weak Are Devoured By the Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sure about this chapter, but here it is as promised!

Jacob knew, right from the start, that the Deputy wouldn’t give him results. He was pre-disappointed. He moved through the motions of being disappointed, disciplined his men harder and even kept going back to Rook’s cage every now and again. Watched her for a bit while she slept. Listened to her talk to herself. He kept doing it until eventually she shut up. He was never really inside while she was outside, always on the other side of the wood ply boards nailed around the bars. 

Rook was the first woman he’d slept with in a long time. Like Jacob noted before, he wasn’t a looker like his brother John and didn’t have a silver tongue for the ladies and he definitely didn’t have the presence or followers of the Father. In fact, it was somewhat difficult for most to believe that Jacob was part of the Seed family appearance-wise, but he’d like to consider himself roughly handsome. He wasn’t getting any younger, wasn’t getting any prettier. Maybe he shouldn’t be getting so attached to a woman who should want to kill him, but she made him feel young. Something that Jacob found difficult through the long nights and the locks on his door. The endless paranoia of war had followed him home, consumed his every action. 

So when he entered the cage, his nose completely dead to the scent, he was almost  _ happy  _ to see Rook, wasn’t as disappointed as he would be if he wasn’t expecting it. Wolf was dead, but he wasn’t sure  _ why  _ in the short time he spent picking up his knife. No blood on it. Not that he’d expected anything different. 

In the six days that Jacob had been semi-separated from Rook, a part of him told himself it was for her own good. The other part told him that he wanted his dog back. It was a test of patience. He’d seen Staci Pratt bring the Deputy food. He let it slide, for now. But he’d also seen the Deputy throw it to the wolf. She took just enough to keep her going, because she didn’t move a lot it wouldn’t burn as much energy but it’d keep her alive even if it meant being in extreme discomfort. 

So, Jacob was going to try a different approach. Joseph’s agent had come in the dead of night to observe the Virgin Mary’s current living conditions and the response from Joseph was not ideal. He wanted Jacob to have a gentler touch. So, Jacob would treat her like a lady he was gonna court. He had the preparations ready, he’d been spending half a day on it. 

Jacob was not a man for romance. He was a man of action but at certain times there was just a proper mood for it. A time for it. A single grand romantic gesture could last a year. A kiss out of love could last a month, not that he considered this any kind of love, but seeing as the Virgin Mary would be sticking around for a very specific purpose, it was necessary that Jacob would seduce her. At least make life with her around more bearable. Find the good in her.

And so, that is when they found themselves in Jacob’s apartment, a term he used loosely for the left side of the basement of the Veteran’s hospital. Had a kitchen, a bathroom with a working shower, a bedroom and a dining room. All makeshift, of course. As he put his army jacket in the closet, stripping down to only his jeans and that grey t-shirt, he knew she was watching him. “I’m going to get ingredients. Don’t leave this room.” 

He unclipped the chain from her collar, leaving her freedom to move without being weighed down by the chain.

As Jacob walked past her, she, of course, would stay.

I was nervous as hell, certain the puppies would yap or fuck things up by squirming out of my shirt. I had to hide them for the time being if there was any chance of survival, so I picked the closet, digging under Jacob’s dirty laundry and making a little tent of sorts. As he came back in the room, I closed the closet door and he paused to look at me. “No shame in looking for something to wear. This is our last night together before you walk the Pilgrimage.”

“Pilgrimage?” I asked, turning to Jacob, my eyebrows tight-knit in confusion, and I could tell he understood my question.

“Before you meet Faith, you will be forced to walk the Pilgrimage. It will most likely take you the entirety of the time you spend in her region, but I’m sure she’ll show up before you leave for John.” 

“I don’t get it.” 

“You don’t have to,” He responded, before stepping right in front of me. His hands were shaking as he fiddled with the buttons of his faded lumberjack shirt, trying to undo them- but I wasn’t sure if he was nervous or if it was something else. By this time I just really wanted to leave Jacob with no more pain and no more surprises and if this was the last night compliance meant everything, especially if I’d be walking. I rose my hands to undo the buttons and it was clear Jacob was surprised by my eagerness to take my clothes off in front of him but he’d already seen everything. He’d already been inside me, whether it was with my consent or not- my first. This time, I was the one shaking, afraid of what he’d do, what he had planned for me. 

But this time, he began fiddling with his own shirt cautiously. I stared him down, every one of my buttons undone, almost exposing my chest but not quite. Just enough to cover my nipples and I still had my underwear. 

I couldn’t bear the tenseness of the situation so I grabbed his shirt and he grabbed my wrist, staring me down like I was about to attack him. How I wish I would. That if I could, I would take the opportunity to kill him. I had already been granted that opportunity, and I failed. After a moment, he let go, decidedly trying the wait and see option. I pulled the hem of his shirt over his head and he did the rest of the work, letting it fall to the side, somewhere on the floor. He was muscled, ginger, thick chest hair, a trail leading down into his pants- he had a  _ lot  _ of hair. And the way he was staring made me feel like I’d be on the menu if we waited much longer. “What do you want? Our shirts are off.”

“Nothing sexual,” He responded, as if reading my mind. “Shower. Gotta conserve water, damned fuckin’ teens cut off the supply by breaking the pipes and we’ve got a small amount in reserve. Special occasion, we should both be clean.” As he motioned me forward, he began taking off his jeans and I did my best not to look, but he was going commando. What kind of man didn’t wear underwear? He looked over at me expectantly, unembarrassed, rather confident compared to me. I was somewhat uncomfortable with the prospect of my body being on display to oogle. He came forward, gently removing his shirt from my shoulders. He motioned me forward, letting me use him as an anchor of sorts and I wondered what had happened to the Jacob from before- the one who’d relentlessly tortured me, raped me and made me think that death was better than being his pet. As my underwear slid off my body, I was completely exposed. 

I wasn’t keen, but I knew better than to disobey. I followed him to the shower, which he turned on, and the water rained down over both of us. It was spacey, but he was still too close and the silence between us made it worse.

“I am sorry, Rook.”

Those words filled me with an incomprehensible rage, one that I couldn’t contain to the point where  _ wait and obey  _ wasn’t really something I was concerned with. I whipped around, water falling down my face and shoulders. “Sorry doesn’t fix things, Jacob.”

“I-”

“No, Jacob, fuck. You. You’re a fucking monster and nothing can convince me otherwise. If you really thought apologizing would make up for the shit you’ve put me through- if you think I came to some epiphany where I  _ liked  _ being raped in that fucking cage with a  _ ravenous wolf, by the way,  _ not really good for thinking, you’re fucking crazy. Who am I kidding? You’re  _ psychotic.  _ If I give you the chance, you’d do it twice over. You’re a psychopath, Jacob, and a sorry doesn’t change the torture or the rape or the whipping or the wounds on my body so do me a favour and shut the fuck up because nobody wants to hear it.” 

I promptly stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the stand-up plastic rack, walking into his room. I was surprised he didn’t chase after me or try to choke the life out of me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to hurt him, I wanted to kill him and I wanted to forgive him so I didn’t have to waste any more energy on thinking about him because holding a grudge took more out of me than forgiving someone did. I would hold onto this grudge. No easy forgivings. No forgivings, Rook, I told myself, knowing I was fucking kidding myself. I’d always been a pushover. I’d never acted, just listened, did what I was told, take whatever pricks like fucking  _ Burke  _ say whatever the fuck they wanted to me or about me and that was it. I’d always let people like the Seeds step on me and I’d just forgive them but I didn’t want to this time around while simultaneously knowing it would just make my life that much easier if I did but I couldn’t.

I was a walking fucking contradiction. 

* * *

 

I waited like a dog on Jacob’s bed, sitting cross legged, towel covering all of my bits. Jacob didn’t bother to say anything to me and perhaps that was for the best. At least he knew how to listen to what someone was saying. However, he looked different clean. Like a normal person. Like he could actually be a lumberjack, or a hunter- dirty, he looked like a fucking doomsday prepper. As grabbed a white flower off his table, and he held it out to me. “Bliss flower.”

“You mean cult drugs?” 

“Not a cult.” He insisted, but didn’t use physical or mental violence to back up his claim. Surprising. “It’s a pretty flower when you look past what it’s used for.”

“So you picked it because it was a pretty flower? Do you hear yourself, Jacob?” I was still  _ enraged.  _ Anger was hot in my blood like freshly tempered iron. I didn’t know how to feel or how to think and I was still new to interacting to people who weren’t to my parent’s standards. They’d keep me as far away from men like Jacob as possible if they had any say in it. Oh, it didn’t matter that he was a psychopath- it was because he looked like a country hick. They were judgemental, to say the least. Him being almost fifty would also have something to do with it. 

Jacob held up a dress he’d taken from the tabletop. “Faith picked this out for you. Might be more comfortable than my clothes.” As I took it from him, my hands ran over the lace part. It would expose my shoulders, and if I was walking, would most definitely make me susceptible to sunburn. “Navy blue might fit you.” 

As if Jacob could make this any more awkward. He was trying to play dress-up nice guy and I didn’t trust it for a second. Still, the dress was in pristine condition, the solid pleats of the skirt kind of attracting me to it in a weird way. It was strange to get a gift from someone I’d never met before. 

I took the dress, slipping it on, feeling the comfort of clean clothes and a good shower, finally. Even if the shower wasn’t as long as I’d have liked, I was still basely clean. My hair wasn’t washed, but I’d have to deal with the time I got. I made a choice and that choice was to yell at my molester and get out of the shower. I could live with my choices.

“I most likely hurt you. It was my first time… in that way.” I had no idea what he was trying to say, and I didn’t think I wanted to know. “Next time, I’ll-”

“Next time? Next time is never going to happen. I’ll kill myself before I let you touch me in that way again.” It was an empty threat, but I made it. I was too scared to kill myself. I wasn’t sure what was waiting for me on the other end and if this was really the only life I had before everything faded to black, I wanted to hold on to this world for as long as I could, make a mark so I wouldn’t be forgotten. 

“You’ll be very lonely in Eden, Rook.” His voice was quiet and absolute and I hated him for being such a know-it-all, so confident in his words and his cause that he was like a weapon, directed wherever Joseph pointed. 

“I don’t care.” 

“You will.” Fuck his confidence.

It felt good to be clean as I was. I wasn’t feeling nearly as angry when we began, something I felt was a huge flaw of mine. I was too forgiving. “Can we just eat dinner?” 

“Thought you’d never ask.” So that’s what he was waiting for. An invitation to dinner. He led me to the dining room, pulling out one of the four chairs for me. I specifically sat in the one he was furthest from, not caring about how gentlemanly he was being. “Rook.” He said, sitting down in the chair he had pulled out. “You may want to change your attitude, because I am losing my patience.” I held my tongue and I went quiet. Maybe that was the best thing I could’ve done at this point. As he got up, walking over to the counter, I noticed that the table was already set. Despite the fact it was wooden, almost everything was plastic or makeshift including the cot that was Jacob Seed’s bed and the tarps that made up the walls separating everything or covering up the windows he had bothered to at least make it look as nice as this dump could look. There was a single candle, along with white petals and a single bliss flower. As he came back with a pot full of roast and a bunch of potatoes, serving out the meal, I adhered to my family values. I had to wait for the cook to sit down before I was allowed to eat. It was respect, something that I doubted Jacob had for me, but I wasn’t about to give up years of values. I didn’t want to think about how I lost my virginity, at all.

As he sat down, picking up the fork and eating in a rather non-eloquent manner with his elbows on the table, I noted that he’d changed into a new grey t-shirt. I wondered how many of them he had, and how often he changed. Probably once a month or every two months. I shuddered at the disgusting thought. The thought of how unwashed he must’ve been on top of me filled my head and I could feel my stomach heave in disgust. 

I picked up a potato with my fork. They were tiny, miniature things- I’d had this before, they were common with roast. My tastebuds were alive with flavour that I had missed as the steak Pratt had brought had no flavoring at all. All of a sudden I was inhaling his cooking like it was my last meal- it was absolutely delicious. I didn’t expect Jacob to be able to cook, let alone cook so well. He looked up from the material he was reading- a book about plants in the wild- to watch me. The meat was succulent and well-cooked, coming apart softly in my mouth, the spices mingling together to make what was apparently mouth-sex.

I shuddered at the thought of  _ any  _ kind of sex. Premarital sex was a no. How could I live with rape? If this was the old days of our world, well, fuck it- even if it was now I’m sure that my parents would force Jacob to pay them so I could be his bride. Selling me off to my rapist and planning the wedding sounds exactly like something they’d do. 

But I had to calm myself down. Rape was  _ not  _ premarital sex. Rape was when you didn’t consent and it did not count. I still felt dirty, like I’d never be clean, like Jacob had tainted me in some manner that I’d never be able to purify.but that didn’t matter because it wasn’t my fault. Yet still, I knew that if I found bleach my skin would feel suddenly that much itchier and my mother’s teachings would take over my mind.

Still, I persevered into the dinner with Jacob. I was surprised I was keeping it together so well. If well meant telling Jacob off, stepping on his toes and almost pissing him off. “Rook. When you walk the path, stay on it. Don’t wander,” He cut into his roast with a steak knife, slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on my own. “Because there are pests in the garden. And these pests will try to change the plans that have been carefully laid out for you.” 

“Doesn’t sound like something you’d say.” I dared not look away.

“No, it’s not something I’d say. The Father told me to relay those exact words to you.” 

We finished the dinner up quickly enough and he was kind enough to take the dishes and wash them too. Still, he was a monster. However, I was currently more concerned about Joseph Seed. I’d come face to face with him eventually, and then, I would most likely have to make dark, desperate choices. 

My waiting for Jacob proved to annoy me all the more, mostly because he took his time with everything he did. Was he enjoying life or just torturing me? 

It was hard to imagine that someone like Jacob could enjoy life.

In life, some things are meant to go wrong. Others are meant to go right. The night had been going fine for the most part, as Jacob hadn’t touched me sexually- he’d only gotten into a shower in a rather close, uncomfortable vicinity to me while being naked. I chewed him out for being a rapist, something that I was still having trouble believing actually happened- making excuses for reasons as to why it didn’t or couldn’t count. 

He hadn’t been too cruel. Compared to what he’d done over the past week, this was… different. He was like a different man and that partially disturbed me because I wasn’t sure whether he was a decent, god-fearing man or a psychopath. When he wasn’t locking me in a cage or hurting me, I honestly thought that maybe he’d be the type of man you’d come across drinking in a bar, playing darts with friends. Never the type of man I’d take home, let alone interact with. 

Again, different. Part of me wondered if I could perhaps get along with the denizens of the cult, at least until the national guard and more came to my rescue. My father and mother were sure to raise the alarm.

* * *

 

“Agent Rook,” A man greeted the figure who came out of the helicopter, who waved in a sarcastic sort of way.

“I’m not here for a vacation.” Rook replied. “I’m here because the higher ups want Joseph Seed dealt with, quietly. The fact that they sent me means that anyone I come in contact with is meant to die.” 

That was enough to wipe the man’s smile off of his face. It wasn’t like Rook enjoyed killing. He was a god-fearing man, just like his father. And just like his father, he knew the importance of needing to deal with certain situations in a manner the public won’t panic about. An entire county going off the grid? Yeah, someone argued that maybe they should send a lot more Federals to apprehend Joseph Seed, but again, it was meant to be dealt with quietly. Burke was  _ supposed  _ to be competent. Since he wasn’t and they’d kicked off some sort of chain reaction from the cult, it was plan B.

His father had argued that sending in the national guard would definitely alert the nation, which was already in a time of high crisis with all of the terrorist attacks and bombings. To deal with infighting, to announce that was happening by sending an entire armed militant convoy, well, the men in charge couldn’t have that. So here Rook was, a prettyboy field agent. More a hired killer, trained for the specific purpose of being his father’s own militant force. Maybe a little egotistical, but if he wouldn’t love himself, who would? A well-trained soldier was better than a bunch of deputies, a sheriff and a single (yet again, incompetent) Marshal. Especially when his sister, who was as soft as could be, was included in that bunch. The Seeds had made a mistake when they took her. 

They made it personal. Frankly, Agent Rook was not the type of man you wanted to have a personal vendetta against you. Even if you were in a completely normal situation, he’d be able to kill you and cover the tracks quick as can be.

This time, he had full clearance to kill anyone in Hope County. His legitimate orders were to kill anyone that could be arrested for obstruction of justice, his father’s orders were to retrieve his sister, and his orders from a certain man of political power were to eradicate the cult by any means necessary. Rook had brought his arsenal, and he was most likely going to reach his highest killcount yet, even higher than the operation where he had to subjugate terrorists in a five story hotel. There were a great deal of terrorists there, but he took them out cleanly and disarmed the bomb. It’s the situation that qualified him for this mission in the first place. “You… you need a guide?” The man asked, wary of stepping in Rook’s way in case he decided to turn his gun on him simply because he was annoyed. 

“No, but I need a map. Stealth chopper got me far, but I don’t want anyone to know I’m coming so I’m going on foot from here out. Hope County’s about a half-a-day’s walk here. Method of killing is preferably that I make cultists disappear and they won’t know until their numbers are cut by half.” He began loading his duffel bag with an array of guns, most with infrared scopes. He preferred the term professional killer rather than murderer, because in the eyes of God, he killed for both God and Country. He’d been absolved of his sins post coming to Hope County by their family’s priest. Similar to the crusades, he preferred repenting for the sins of killing but he did it for the sake of his family and country. 

“It’s been a good week or two since all of the lines were cut. You sure you’re gonna be good? The only outpost we have is here, and it’s pretty far from the action.” 

“I’ll make another. Gotta be some sane people in Hope County.” He took his phone out of the holder on the belt, handing it to the man. “Do me a favor and trade this in for a tracker. Equipment that’ll work, even if the landlines are fried.” It took a moment, but the man disappeared into the concrete building only to bring out what looked like a tablet. 

“Works via distance. Basic, but you have to inject the tracking chips into the subject’s body. There are three chips in total.”

“Thanks, tech.” Rook aimed the injection gun to his neck, the needle sliding underneath his skin. He bore the pain, knowing whatever his sister was going through had to be worse. 

“The next two injections are for ALPHA, the VIP trapped in Hope County, and the target, Joseph Seed.” 

His sister and the motherfucker that took her. “Understood. I’m on my way.”

“If you’re not back within a month, we’ll presume you dead and Operation Bluebird a failure. If you need more time, you can send a pulse via that tablet that’ll let us know you’re alive.”

“I won’t need more time!” Rook called as he descended the mountainous area, into the woods- into the direction of Hope County. 

“What a jackass.” The handler turned, sighing. “Crazy fucking doomsday cults… budget cuts… why do I have to be a field agent handler? Oh, no, Ted, take the job- more money, Ted- yeah, fuck you too, Delilah.” 

* * *

 

I wondered what my brother was doing at this moment. I also wondered if I’d ever see anyone in my family again, if my mother was panicking and if my father was throwing his influence around to get someone- anyone- into Hope County. They’d take it so seriously, not that anyone in my family ever laughed, and without ever smiling, they’d slowly begin to forget me. It was a scary thought, that I may die tomorrow. 

I think, however, that it was scarier to imagine being forgotten, like I never existed in the first place. How, when I die, life will just go on. Nothing will stop for anyone. Sometimes I simply felt like I didn’t matter, like it would never matter.

Everyone who has ever done something horrid in this world has succeeded. Maybe that’s an ignorant thing to say, but it’s true. History will never forget them. They’re rewarded by how much we think of them, how much we’re in fear that a second version of them may rise, blinded by awe and fear to the fact that by taking our minds- our time- even for just a second means that their actions, whether dark or not, have put them into generations of teaching. We shouldn’t forget the past, because the past holds valuable information on what not to do again, but just because we know we shouldn’t do it doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. 

Similar to the fact that Joseph is a cult leader. There’s been many men who claim to know the will of God before. All have fallen. Even the church has been used for evil, and those times have fallen too. 

But still. The definition of insanity is doing something over and over again and expecting different results. Did that mean escape was insanity? That I couldn’t achieve it? 

As the water came to a stop, so did my thoughts. “Rook. Bedroom. You’re going to sleep on my floor tonight.” How gentlemanly. He had a couch. He could have at least offered that. But Jacob wasn’t exactly a picturesque gentleman. 

“You’re a war veteran, right?”

He paused, and I saw his shoulders stiffen. “Yes. Iraq, first Gulf war.” His voice and his body language were saying two different things. He sounded confident, eager to admit it, but the way he stiffened- something about remembering didn’t make him feel quite right. “Why?”

“My family’s all law enforcement.” 

“Is that so.” He seemed disinterested, but maybe he was listening. Was it really better than talking to a wolf? No. It was the exact same.

“My father- he’s high up in the chain. Definitely the type of man to meet with the president. Tends to take care of tense situations. Of course he’d be involved in this.” Jacob was looking at me now. I’d caught his interest. “My mother is a judge. She’s got a lot of enemies behind bars. She’s never accepted a bribe in her life, and people have tried, but they’ve been exposed while doing so.” 

“My brother John is a lawyer.” Something I hadn’t really known. It was interesting to know that one of the Seed brothers was… well, I couldn’t say on the side of the law. Jacob had been military, so he’d once served to protect the country. I wasn’t sure if John was a good guy or not. 

Probably not.

“My brother is my only sibling.” I paused. “Not really sure what he does.” Little did I know, he was basically the definition of a political weapon. And taking on two bears with a shotgun in the woods he came across while they were mating. “I just know he’s always been a nice guy. Lonely, actually. Never seen him with a girl. Probably not gay, but you can never be too sure. Always goes to church on sunday.” Might miss it this week, though. 

Jacob sauntered across that room with his usual cocky gait. “You respect your brother, don’t you?”

“I suppose. He’s never really been cruel to me, but we’ve never really had a long conversation before.” 

“You mean that you don’t talk to your brother?”

“Not often. He’s always out.” 

* * *

 

“So, we’re having issues with the rebels in Fall’s End? Again?” Glenn asked. He was sitting in the Seed ranch after a nice dinner with John, splayed out on the couch. His leather jeans clashed badly with how country the couch itself looked, the chain on them dangling off the side of the cushion. 

“Yes. One of them hostages escaped.” A response on the other end, a male’s voice, quiet. Nervous. Thick country accent. 

“Who was it? Anyone important?” Glenn pulled at a loose thread on the couch, only to unravel it a bit. When he noticed a bit of stuffing was coming out, he stood up, promptly switching couches so he didn’t have to take the blame. 

“Just a nobody. Not a business owner or nothin’, but they’re still a familiar face ‘round these parts.”

“Very well. If they return, kill on sight.” Glenn paused. “Two things. Don’t tell anyone, and this won’t be pinned on you. We don’t want to look incompetent in the eyes of the Father, now, do we?”

“N-no, Glenn…” 

“We don’t have to. I’ll help fix this. I’m going out hunting now. Remember, keep quiet.” As he switched off the radio frequency, dropping the radio on the couch before walking over to John’s gun cabinet. 

“Oh, Glenn. Ever the worker; in the eyes of God, your hard work for this cause- your work ethic- is a virtue. You are doing a service to God, and He sees all- He sees your devotion to the Project.” 

Glenn turned to see John with that telltale happy smile on his face, covered in the blood of at least three people. He’d had a few confessions today, for sure. From what Glenn could recall, John had Glenn book three special confessions, all of which were rather important for the cult. One was for another Pastor, not specifically the one from Fall’s End but in Faith’s Region. She had delivered the pastor to him and it would be rather important that he become a preacher for the Father’s teachings. “I’m only doing what has to be done by somebody, what our faith demands.”

“Remember that your faith will be rewarded, Glenn.” Glenn knew. He would follow John, his adoptive father, to the ends of the earth. Having faith in God was no small thing, but if John asked him to reveal all of his sins, to pledge his soul in service to God, Glenn would. And he has. It was the reason why Glenn hadn’t attempted to contact the police. Why, when they came around, he hid. 

Firmly holding the shotgun, Glenn turned before he left the interior of the ranch. “I’m going to borrow two of your men, and the jeep.” 

John stood in front of the fire. He didn’t look at John, just simply into the flames. He did that sometimes. Glenn doubted he’d find the shower until morning. John tilted his head back, looking at the beast mounted over the flames, before exhaling. “Take whoever and whatever you need. Capturing isn’t a priority.” His head turned to Glenn’s general direction. “Kill them. We don’t need snakes in the Garden.”

* * *

 

The night had been going well thus far. Definitely better than I’d expected. If better was that I was trapped in a basement with my rapist and that I was apparently going to walk something called the path tomorrow, a pilgrimage- and that I was being warned that to step off the path would have dire consequences, my only choice would be to continue walking the path. I wasn’t sure what would keep me here now that Zig was gone. I planned to break away the moment Jacob was out of sight. I didn’t think anything could be scarier than him hunting me, but I had to deal with being hunted by him if I wanted to get the hell out of here.

Meeting Joseph Seed was also something I didn’t want to do again. He’d been eerie the first time and I’m sure it’d be worse the second. As I got ready to sleep, the one thing I had forgotten came back to bite me. Jacob had opened the dresser, and lo and behold- the sounds that came from it was mewling, creatures signalling their mother- hungry, their tiny maws opening for food and whining when the mother wolf’s nipple was not there to suckle on.   


I could see the nightmare this would become as Jacob’s expression twisted multiple times, but the most prominent emotion was anger. It seemed like he settled on feeling angry as he grabbed the wolves by their scruffs, two in one hand and one in the other. The one screamed, making a sound that hurt my ears and it was clear that it was in pain. “Jacob, wait!” 

“I should’ve asked how the bitch died. That is on me. But I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to keep something like this from me.” As we walked through the halls it was like we were undisturbed- nobody moved to stop me from following him. The expression he was wearing, the gait in his step, all of it warded any followers from stepping into his path, fearing that they may turn his wrath on them. 

He led her to an old well behind the hospital and he dropped the pups carelessly at his feet. As I went for them, he drew back his hand, balling it into a fist and I felt the full pressure of his punch against my face. I fell to the ground, blood welling in my mouth, pain spreading like a incurable disease. It felt like that, to say the least, because I was almost always in pain. 

I watched as he grabbed one pup by the scruff, holding it over the well. “I don’t know when you’re going to get it, Rook. Even you have to stop being so thick at some point- your actions have consequences. Obey.” I screamed as he plunged the hand holding the pup into the water of the well, scrambling to get up, trying to reach the poor thing and I saw bubbles and tiny limbs struggling to reach something- anything- as long as it wasn’t water and I could feel my heart break into little pieces as Jacob easily held me back with one arm. I was helpless, unable to do anything compared to the monster of a man. 

As he pulled the carcass of what was once a pup I had felt the need to protect, I realized my heart was indeed shattered, because that was death- the end. There was no need for the death of the third pup, yet he did it anyways. I couldn’t understand why. 

“Please, Jacob.” I held his arm close to my chest as he reached for the others, having dropped the previous to the side. “Please. I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Just don’t kill them.” 

I could feel his muscles tensed. He moved to lean against the well, extending one boot out. “Anything?” His voice took a curious tone, one that was undoubtedly disturbing. “Clean my shoes.” He gestured to his boots before crossing his arms, staring me down. He licked his lips, watching my every move. 

I slowly dropped to my knees, preparing my sleeve to use as I tried to begin rubbing off the dirt but he moved his shoe an inch. Again, I moved for it, but he moved it. I looked up at him, my emotions mixed with fear, anger, doubt, hatred- quite the cocktail. I knew Jacob was a psychopath. This much was proven. How he’d managed to keep it hidden was a shock; he wasn’t anywhere close to having the capability to be a sociopath. “With your tongue, Bitch.”

He saw the expression on my face and laughed, throwing back his head in the process and looking at the night sky before looking down again. 

“You’re being timed. If you don’t start within five seconds, I’ll break their legs and let them starve to death in pain.” My fingers dug into the dirt so hard I thought they might bleed. “Four.” I leaned my head down, hair brushing against the ground, body bent over his feet. “Three.” I braced myself for how disgusting this might be but I couldn’t take any more death. “Two.” As my tongue slid over the top of his boot, he began to laugh even harder than I’d expect it. “Rook. You’d humiliate yourself this much for these pups? Tell you what. You do a good job, and I’ll make sure they live until your return. You escape, I kill one. I’d give you… say, three days to return to me? That’s a generous offer, right?”

I didn’t answer him because I was processing this deal in my mind. Thinking helped me get away from the taste of his shoe, the dirt and grime that covered it. I did as I was told, cleaning as much as I could to the best of my ability. If I wasn’t devoted to protecting those pups before, I was now. I couldn’t let them die on my watch- I couldn’t see anything, anyone, else die. It brought tears to my eyes as I remembered the death of Zig’s friend, the splattered brain matter and I just wanted that scene from a dark nightmare to leave my mind so I kept cleaning to the best of my ability, punishing myself for trying to escape, punishing myself for what had happened between Jacob and I- punishing myself for not just walking away from arresting Joseph Seed. I had the option.

I didn’t take it. 

All of this was my fault. My responsibility. So many conflicting feelings ran through me and I knew- I was on this path until I either killed Joseph Seed or died myself. 


End file.
